Fire and Fog
by EveyDawn
Summary: "How can he know the price of freedom, when he does not understand the concept." Bardum sighed. "He can learn, love." she said. "Love would be an easier topic to teach than freedom. His chains are burned into his skin." Now rated M because I want to be a bit more descriptive in violent and sensual areas. Will not be smut, but there's gonna be some... sensuality.
1. Chapter 1 Fire and Fog

_Author's note: Thank you to whomever decides to read this, I hope you like it. This is my first time putting any of my writing out into the public, so if you choose to honor me by reviewing, remember what it was like for you the first time. Constructive criticism is welcome. _

_Disclaimer… Personally, I think the fact that this is a fanfiction website kinda clues us all into the fact that the work put forth here is derived and or inspired by another source, but as many others seem to be dancing to this tune; Bioware and their affiliates with respect to Dragon Age II own all characters, source material, etc… I can only claim the lens I use to focus them, and the words I write._

Fire and Fog

Taut like ragefire coursing through his skin, burning, beating to the rhythm of obscurity, His fists clenched, unclenched, he looked to his feet. "Do you know why you will die?"

"I will die only at my Master's hand. No other has the strength to take my life."

"Oho, little wolf, you have become very brave, haven't you? Certainly too brave, no, no, no, you must respect your betters, little pet."

He shook as her ice froze his armor to his skin, and burned his fingers more deeply in seconds than any fire could do. He gritted his teeth, to keep from crying out, "You will die of minor wounds, little pet, because no matter how valuable your skin has become, you are yet just another animal in the Master's stables… and I don't like you." Her shrill laughter caused his skin to prickle around the marks, and he knew that she drew some terrible pleasure from his agony, from his fears. "Sleep tight pet!" She trilled, slamming the door to his sleeping place. In the near-dark, every shadow looked to be a demon. He shook, huddled in a corner. His markings began to put off a quiet glow, as the lyrium in his skin reacted to his most basic emotions, that glow, banished the most terrifying of shadows, and his eyes closed of their own accord as exhaustion took him into the fade.

"Dog can make his own way, Magister, there is no room."

"You will not leave my slave, he is too valuable-"

"No room! If we take him, we will have to take hundreds like him, and as the load builds so does our weight. You wish to survive? Command your pet to meet you elsewhere, and get aboard the ship. Hurry."

Denarius looked back at Fenris, who realized with terrible, dreadful fear, that his Master would leave him. Fenris looked down, his trousers were ripped, his armor dented, his face, he knew was purple. If he was not healed, he might slip from consciousness, earning a new beating… surely Denarius wouldn't… "Master?"

"Go to Minrathous. I will be there."

"Yes." Fenris said, but he had already boarded the vessel, and they had begun to weigh anchor. Fenris had little time to wonder how he would cross the waters with no boat, injured, and alone, before the sounds of a raging battle hit the pier.

When he woke, the world was alive with the musics of the wild. A cruel sound, so very alive! It stirred something within him- what? He could not say. Then the lady with the fey eyes knelt beside him. He did not have the strength to stop her. She touched a cool cloth to his neck, and he felt the ghost of a wound absorb the numbing cold, before he began to shiver. "You wake?"

He looked at her. She was thin, and small. Her tight lips conveyed a concern he could not recognize. "I am not asleep, if that is what you are asking."

Slowly her mouth's tightness eased, "You will live."

"No one can kill me." He sighed, "Only my Master's will."

"You say that, but the Qunari gave it their best shot." A short thick fellow snapped as he ambled into the light, behind the fey eyed lady.

"Yet I still draw breath." Fenris said in his best imitation of Denarius' sullen arrogance.

"That in its self is a miracle." The lady said, "The Saarebas would have liked nothing more than to fillet your lungs with his ice. He did try, but-"

"Sharna." The man snapped, "Leave the dead alone. Why you wished to help a Magister's pet is beyond me."

"He is just like us, Bardum, before we won our freedom."

"We _win_ our freedom with each breath we take, if he refuses to breathe, why should you trouble to heal his lungs?"

"Because I can! Because if Mota hadn't done the same-"

The man clicked his tongue, and the woman stopped speaking, but her eyes continued the argument, and as he spoke, Fenris believed that she had won. "I know." He said, "I… suppose I just can't see taking in a Magister's dog."

"He is no less a man than you, my love."

The man quirked his eyebrows, "You know this?" Fenris shifted awkwardly, as he realized that his armor was not strapped to his body.

"I feel this." She placed a hand on her chest, which rose and fell in time with Fenris' own. "I am certain of it."

The man reached out, and stroked the top of Sharna's head, "If you are certain, then I stand ready to defend your certainty." His eyes snapped to Fenris' "Elf."

"Yes." He replied, looking studiously over the man's right shoulder, just as he had been taught.

"You have a name?"

"Fenris."

"Yeah. You know how to hunt?"

"I do."

"Are you willing to defend your freedom?"

Fenris blinked, "My… what?"

"Freedom. Will you defend it?"

"I… am not… I am the property of Magister Denarius-"

"Not anymore. You were left behind, Fenris." The lady said, "You can be free, now."

"You aren't making sense!" He growled, "I know what I am. I-"

"How can he know the price of freedom, when he does not understand the concept." Bardum sighed.

"He can learn, Love."

"Love would be an easier topic to teach than freedom. His chains are burned into his skin,"

Flying through the forest, the warriors spread about him, he hefted his sword with a cry and a curse, and then he met the Qunari. The group of three, Ashaad, Avaraad and Saarebas, were unprepared, but not unready. They did not but meet the group, before Avaraad commanded Saarebas to work ice and fire into Fenris' bones. Fortunately, the Fog Warriors protect their own, and before the mage had lifted his hands, an arrow plunged into the exposed flesh below his chin. Saarebas gurgled, staggered, and fell. Avaraad cursed, "You will pay for that Baas!" He roared, as Fenris blocked him. The enormous gray warrior snarled, "You will submit to the Qun!"

"I submit to nothing!" Fenris roared, seeing his former master in place of the enormous Qunari warrior, he tore through Avaraad's midsection, hefted the blade up, and swung around, using his momentum to propel himself into a jump, then bringing the blade crashing down into the fallen male's chest. Ashaad backed away, eyes flicking from Fenris, to the unknowns around him in the trees.

"The Qun does not forbid retreat. I will leave. Allow me to take the weapons of Saarebas and Avaraad."

"Why should I let you go?" Fenris snarled, "You have been harrying us for weeks!"

"I will no longer trouble you."

"But others of your kind will!" He growled, feeling the lyrium in his skin pulse, burn like ice and fire tearing at his epidermis.

"Fenris, I think you can let him go." Bardum said coolly, "Ashaad, you will not return here? The Qun will allow you to speak nothing of us in return for your comrade's souls."

"I… cannot say. I will not return. The thing I seek lies elsewhere. Arishok may take my words and send more here. I cannot promise you."

"Then we will keep the blade of Avaraad, and the staff of Saarebas."

His eyes twitched, "Payment… in return for their souls, I will discourage Arishok from sending the Beresaad. Is this acceptable?"

"Yes." Bardum said.

"No." Fenris snarled. Bardum shook his head, and Fenris amended, for his fellow's sake, "Yes. It is acceptable." Though the words tasted sour on his tongue.

"Take them, and be well."

The Qunari's eyes frowned, though there was no change in the rest of his face. "Thank you. Panahedon." He said, gathering the warriors' respective weapon of choice. "I do not hope you die."

"The feeling is mutual Ashaad. May you find what you seek."

Fenris' lip curled, but before he could speak more, Bardum's eyes silenced him. "We need to move camp."

"Yes." He acknowledged, still watching the Qunari seeker retreat into the jungles of Seheron.

"Come on Fenris."

Before his mind could react, his feet were moving. Obeying.

The day was far too bright. The wind too still. "As though the Maker holds his breath." Fenris said quietly. "This bodes ill…" Fenris was on edge, had been for days. Something was wrong. Something was coming.

"Do you ever smile?" A young female of the clan asked him teasingly. Fenris lost his tongue.

"Yes?" He seemed to ask himself.

"Oh? Would you like to hear a joke?"

Fenris sighed, "Surely there is something better for you to be doing than pestering me."

"Mama told me that if I got you to laugh, I could make sasasca for Daqun."

"Ah."

"So… a joke?"

"If you must."

"You could just laugh."

"But that would cheat you out of you task." He hid his smile from her behind an inscrutable frown.

She sighed dramatically, and then took a deep breath, but whatever she would have said was stolen from her lips as she crashed forward, into him, a ruined house of smoldering flesh. Fenris looked up with horror and fury in his eyes, to find a cruel pair of eyes, smiling at him from across the clearing.

"She was a child."

"You have been a very naughty boy, my little wolf!" Denarius' eyes scolded Fenris, "Heel." He commanded. Fenris fell to his knees, feeling as though his body, his soul were being dragged back into the dark confines of the Magister's staff.

"I-"

"I told you to heel." He snarled, hitting Fenris with the lightest of flame bursts. "Now, Heel!"

Fenris returned to his Master's side, his back bent, his skin aglow. It seemed to echo… those words Bardum had whispered about chains in his skin. His markings burned brighter, "Please, master. Don't hurt-"

He used the blunt end of his staff to smack Fenris across the jaw, "I commanded you to Minrathous, yet here you stand! You never left Seheron!"

"Master, I tried, I-"

"And All I hear from you is excuses! Fenris, you have defied me!"

"No! Master, I was set upon by Saarebas, they nearly-"

"Quiet! You will now pay your dues to me."

It was then, that the Fog Warriors appeared, mightily painted, fearsomely armed, they beat their chests in challenge. Sharna stepped forth, "You are a mighty warrior, Fenris. A free man. You need not submit to this twisted creature!"

He looked at her with such longing, not for her, she knew, for what she represented… but "It is inevitable, Fenris, you are a slave. My slave."

Fenris' eyebrows twitched, and he knelt. The position was unfamiliar after so long. His back was curved, after finally remembering straightness.

"You will kill each one of them."

"No, I can't-" His protests wanted to be fervent, but they sounded weak. In the end, they were weak.

"You can and will, Fenris."


	2. Chapter 2 Burns and Broadswords

_Hi guys. Last I checked, sixty people had checked out Fire and Fog, a few had elected to follow the story, and I was delighted to find that someone had chosen it as a favorite. Thanks for the support. I hadn't expected so much, not in my first day with my first story/chapter._

_OK, originally, I had Fenris going from the events of Fire and Fog, and into something just before Anso's job, but it didn't quite work. I felt like it was too much of a jump, and I couldn't bring myself to use the dream memory cliché, so…without further ado, I present ye,_

Burns and the work of broadswords

The last of the Fog Warriors was not Bardum. Not his lady. The last was a little boy. The child looked at Fenris without scorn. "Mama said you were hurt." He whispered. "Up here." Tapping his head. "She said you think you're a slave, but… I know you're not. You helped me when I hurt my arm. You showed me how to climb a tree. Remember? Slaves don't help just 'cause they want to. They don't teach 'cause 'it pleases' them." Fenris winced as the boy parroted his own words. The child shook his head fervently, and looked up at the white haired elf with hero worship, "You're my friend, Fenris. Nothing is gonna change that."

Fenris had fallen apart in his mind. Slave again. Freedom gone. Lost. Lost. His dream world was gone, broken, forever. The boy's words stung him, and he faltered. His eyes flew back to his master who, seeing his reluctance, pointed his staff at the child, and burned him.

His screams… Fenris knew it would have been kinder to kill the child himself. He would have been a better friend to have cleaved through the child himself… but- After the screams died away, Fenris found himself kneeling beside a pile of ashes and bones. "Maker." He whispered. Denarius was saying something, but the world had coalesced around the fine soft solid smoke which drifted through his fingers. "Maker, I'm sorry." He whispered, "So… so sorry."

"Fenris! Heel!" Denarius commanded, cutting through Fenris' grief haze.

"No." He said.

"Fenris, I am injured, bring me my-"

"No!" He stood, whirled on his master, "I am… I am not your slave!"

"You were born a slave and you will die as one, Fenris. Your proclamations change nothing, not my place, not yours. Get me my potions-"

"Rot." Fenris said, as his skin began to burn from the heat his markings were giving off. He turned then, and ran.

In hind sight, it would have been wiser to end it all there, but Fenris could not have fathomed such a thing. His words, his insistences that he was not a slave… they were as hollow as a bottle of wine. Truly, they were not his truths, but the truths of the Fog Warriors. He could hardly believe it when, as he ran, Denarius did not yank him back and slam him to the ground, burn him, bleed him. He could hardly believe it when he reached the edge of the island and found the skiff, abandoned. It had Qunari markings on it, but he could see no other ship awaiting in the waters between the isle and the mainland. Fenris had been confined to quarters when Denarius brought him to Seheron, but he thought to estimate the journey at half a day, accounting for the less than ideal nature of the vessel he would be escaping in, and any adverse conditions upon the waves.

Although he had no experience piloting a boat, and a very thin line of patience, Fenris did eventually steer the craft into open water. "Go straight!" He would snap, paddling furiously. "It is a straight shot, go straight."

His mind wandered as he stroked the waters, Denarius' eyes when Fenris had refused. The strength he felt at being able to refuse. The fear that propelled him to move faster through the surf, than he had thought possible. "I will not… I am free." He murmured, even as the echo of Bardum's voice whispered, _'__Love would be an easier topic to teach than freedom. His chains are burned into his skin.' _The words echoed, coloring gray thoughts, with splatters of yellow, green, black and bloody red. More red, and blue for guilt than any other color. "I am sorry." He said, his voice creaking like chains, drowned out by the salty spray, and the roaring of the waters.

Over and under and through the brush, like silence under snow. Fenris wrought his freedom from the agony in his skin, and the deaths of slave hunters. "Your master has been looking for you." She said. A pale blue robe, feather spalders, and a staff stinking of blood and magic in equal doses.

"I am a free man. I suggest you go tell him that." Fenris tried to edge around the woman, but instead, she leveled her staff. In response, his lyrium tattoos began to glow, and the ragefire coursed over the length of his body, flooding him with adrenaline and fury.

"I don't think so, slave!" She said, beginning to speak the words of an entropic blood spell.

Snarling, like a mad thing, Fenris knew only one response, "I am not a slave!" He roared, cleaving through the foul mage's body as though she were no more than wax. He then reared about, scenting another, and launched himself through the ranks of a small platoon of well seasoned slavers. "Vinek Kathas!" He growled to himself, a command. They would not be pursuing him one more step. Just as the last of them fell broken on the ground, his lyrium went out, and he realized how much time had passed in the battle. "Once again as the sun fades, I am surrounded by corpses of men." He whispered, feeling a sad echo inside of himself. "This time, they deserved it." So, he bent and retrieved what valuables the cretins had possessed and forfeited with their lives. Six silvers and fourteen brass, plus a rather pretty necklace, and a bar of soap sealed away in parchment. He put his finds into his sachel, and walked away, found himself a secluded place amid the rocks and brush, and lay his head onto a boulder.

This would be his first night alone, away from all others. He smiled grimly as he looked to the stars. His stomach whined pitifully, his body ached with fatigue and left over burning from the lyrium, but he was free. His sleeping spot had been of his own choosing, and tomorrow, he would enter Qunaris, a proud city of the Imperium. He would buy what he could with his finds, and then set his feet to the south. Perhaps one of the cities in the so called "free marches" would be appropriate.

For now, sleep called to him, and he was only too happy to oblige.


	3. Chapter 3 Torture and Toxins

_Thank you to NoMadKa and Paulah for reviewing, I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedules to give me your thoughts on my story. And thank you lurkers/readers, it's nice to see that you visited, even if you didn't post a review… last night I was thinking something I wanted to post in this Author's note, but I can't remember anymore. Ahh well. _

_This chapter assumes some knowledge of the geography of Tevinter. Seheron is an island which lies off the northern coast of Tevinter, for those with the inclination to take a peek at a map to get an idea of where Fenris is at this moment, he has just crossed the Ventosus straights, and is heading southeast. Just google Tevinter, for a map. It's the first link- wikia something._

_Not sure why, but I feel compelled once again to dance this rather obvious tune; Bioware owns all reference and resource material, including copyright to all things Dragon Age, this is a fanfic site, so.. yeah, just a fanfic. (I never said I could dance well)_

_Hunters folly_

Fenris awoke in a cold sweat. It was still dark, but he could feel the sun beginning its ascent… and then there was another feeling, one with which he was all too familiar. "Venhedis." He muttered, collecting his meager possessions, that is, strapping on his armor, his coin purse and his broadsword.

He inhaled quietly, and peeked from his hidden alcove, "Blasted elf." He heard the tracker remarking, "Trail ends here."

"He is nearby." Remarked a woman. She was built like a mountain, holding a two headed axe, and armored in plate, which had the Tevinter chantry's symbol emblazoned upon its chest. "Fan out, men. That elf will make us rich."

"Slavers." Fenris whispered. He looked around himself. He could hide here, there was a relatively good chance that they wouldn't find him. He almost hadn't found this spot, the rocks had layered in such a way that the entrance was obscured completely from both directions, and too thin in any case for a woman like the one outside to squeeze in, but for an elf half starved, the cave mouth was just wide enough. Fenris, pushed his hand through his hair. His instincts said that being trapped in a cave was a worse fate than injury and potential death. His fears urged him to stay put and fight only if he had to.

"Bloody knife ear." The slaver muttered, biting off each syllable with recognizable irritation. This man probably kept slaves, himself. Probably elven girls and boys. Probably, just like every other Tevinter in power, he was possessed of at least marginal magical talent, and used that talent liberally in his punishments. Fenris growled at the thought. This man probably sacrificed his kind regularly, a small price to pay for the power he thought he wielded.

Fenris felt the heat of anger coursing over his skin, as his ire lit the lyrium, and he suddenly glowed with fury. He edged his way out of the cave, and drew his six foot blade. "I will not live with a wolf at my back." He growled, "Face me!"

"Well, well, the slave returns to heel when called."

The snarl which erupted from his lips was not his own, he rushed the hulking whore, and battered her, his blade crushing the side of her steel shell in one blow, then he swung his sword once more, and tore through on the other side, launching her back. He turned his head and caught sight of the man who must have been the tracker stumbled. Fenris grabbed him by the collar, lifting him up, "What does he want?"

"Who?"

"Denarius! Why won't he leave me alone?"

"I- I don't know!"

A dark ball of wicked destruction exploded inside of him, and Fenris roared, "Then you are of no use to me!" and with all the rage he could muster, he crushed the man's throat, and cast him to the ground while he choked on his own blood. "Fight me! I know there are more of you."

One by one, lightly armored warriors entered the clearing, casting nervous glances at the dying man, and their captain, who Fenris assumed was dead. His body flashed more brightly, and he brought his weapons to bear, gutting his way through the beasts who called themselves men.

When he was finished, breathing heavily, he went over their bodies, pulling any valuables. Around the time he found his hands in the purse of the tracker, he heard the captain in the plate armor cursing. He pulled his hands out, and stalked to the woman, he kicked her in the side, "Why did he send you?"

She cried out piteously, "Mercy!"

"Hah!" He booted her in the side again, "Tell me why is Denarius going through so much trouble to find an escaped slave? Surely it is not on principal that he spends such sums of coin."

"Go to hell!"

Fenris growled, and stalked over to one of the rogues nearby, snagged a nasty looking blade from his hip, and returned to the woman in the crushed armor. He knelt, and greaves to get at the flesh beneath. "Tell me." He barked, trailing the blade over her leg, while pinning it to the ground. "Why did he send you?"

"You have no idea what he can do to me if I talk-"

Fenris dragged the dagger over her skin in a mocking and crude attempt to place upon her skin, scars similar to his own lyrium enhanced scars. "You will be lucky to see tomorrow, wench, you need not worry about what my former _master_ will do to you upon your return."

She whimpered, but did not speak.

"Your silence is admirable, but you are in the wrong line of work." He said, intent as he captured the quivering muscle, on cutting deeply into her flesh, but as he brought the blade to bear, the fierce quivering, and shaking stilled, then her body went slack, it unnerved him. "Woman?" He called.

Silence.

He stood up, stalked to her head. "Woman!" He growled. Her eyes were closed. There was a flask near her lips. Fenris knelt, and picked the bottle up, he sniffed once, short and away from the neck. "Deathroot. Of course." He planted the blade in her throat, and watched with disdain as the blood pooled and dribbled. She did not sputter. He told himself he would have allowed her to live, had she given him the information he asked for, but his self did not believe him. He wiped his face, and looked at his blade with a grimace. He had not cared for it well enough in the days since his escape. He promised himself he would remedy that when he was relatively safe.

He went through her armor, pockets, and the like. She carried six sovereigns, and he felt himself in awe at the small fortune. He would walk on to the nearest city, after he cleaned both himself and his blade, and buy necessities. His stomach rumbled, yes, necessities. Food. Oils for his armor and blade… he also needed directions to the imperial highway. The slavers would know to look along the road, but… the silent planes were a deserted place. Dangerous. Foolish of him to go… impossible to stay, and even more impossible to return. "Not an option." He grunted. He wiped his broadsword after stowing what trinkets the dead had relinquished with their lives. It was only then that the sun finally peaked over the horizon, in a brilliant blaze of pink and yellow. He grimaced, thinking that he should begin traveling at night to hide his movements, once he reached the Imperial highway. For now? He would enjoy the pretence of being a free man strolling over a death littered backroad- it hardly warranted the name- soaking in the warm sunshine.

"I should have known I could never be free!" Fenris growled, storming back and forth before the city gates. He had just been forced to cut a bloody swathe through the guard, because they had been warned of his approach, and compelled to subdue him or die. Slavers and pawns, the lot of them; enslaved by either chain or greed to the wills of the Magisters.

He had stolen the coin they had on their bodies as payment for the agony of his lyrium rage, and their own ill fated attempts on his life. He sneered at one of the corpses, a male elf. His own age. He should have felt some filial sadness at the loss of such a strong member of his own race, but he didn't. The elf had been a thrall, a pawn of the Magister's. He snarled, and ran south. Qarinus was a death trap. Denarius knew him too well… but if Fenris didn't get supplies, he'd be walking through a desert with nothing but his armor and his blade.

He chuckled dully, the frying pan or the fire.


	4. Chapter 4 Reverie

_Author's note: Thanks for your continued support with the review, NoMadKa, and thank you, Exxie for the suggestion you made, there's a bit of Fog warrior stuff near the end, and more to come in future chapters._

_As usual, hats off to anyone who chooses to review, thank you for reading… and I hope you enjoy the chapter. _

Fenris had encountered eight groups of slavers, two with magisters under Denarius' command, one with a magister simply looking to increase his station with a new pet, and the other five with no magisters at all, though those five were nearly hordes to match the tales of Darkspawn from the fourth blight. None of the hunters in question returned to spread word of their defeat… but somehow, Denarius knew anyway, knew where he went, no matter how he fled, or where or why. When Fenris bought hirelings, Denarius would destroy them or warp them to his cause. There was no one he could trust. No one he could rely on, so he became a ghost. He stole food, sometimes paying with a bag of coin left in plain sight, sometimes not at all. He was a fugitive. A beast to be hunted- hence the hunters- or less.

"The chains are broken, but still I am bound." He murmured as he stared into the stars. "Maker, Andraste… persuaded you to return your gaze to us. If you… have… I wish to request… assistance. I do not wish to be a slave. I wish… nothing more than to be my own man. To be free, without the threat of blood magic curdling the taste of free air." He watched the stars twinkle in response to his pleas, but other than that, the Maker was silent. "Should have known." He muttered, "No answer. No firey bolt to Denarius' soul. Nothing." But inside him a familiar voice echoed

'_How can he know the price of freedom, when he does not understand the concept... His chains are burned into his skin.'_

"More like my soul." Fenris' mouth quirked, "He was right. I do not know… Who am I speaking to? I am going mad."

_Perhaps you should dance for me, little wolf. Dance so that I may enjoy my investment._ Denarius. Fenris snarled, the man had branded him. The lyruim burned still. Coursing over him like molten rock. If he had been able to scrape the stuff off, he would have, but he could not. "I will never-" He gritted his teeth, remembering a time when he had known no emotion save the command, the pleasure of praise which came from obedience, and the pain of disobedience. "Never again." He growled into the night.

Magic exists to serve man, not to rule him. In theory. In Tevinter, Magic was the rule, and if you were the exception, you were crushed beneath its heel, or bled for the pleasure of demons and powerful men of whom little good could be said. Hell, magic did not exempt anyone from being bled. Power did. Power alone. And power is a beacon.

Fenris knew little of the fade, that realm in which demons lived, save that almost everyone not immune to magic went there in their dreams. Normally, that meant only dwarves were immune to the fade. Fenris, however, had been made abnormal through the application of the Lyrium in his skin. He did not dream. He was less effected by magic of all sorts, though Denarius was powerful enough to make his magic excruciating. Creation magic was the only branch, which had any real affect on the elf. He did not know why, really, save that if he died, the markings would probably be terribly expensive to reapply to another warrior, so healing and protective spells were beneficial to cast upon him. Creation was also the only magic, which did not stink terribly.

Still. Any mage outside a proper circle was dangerous. Fenris thought, not for the first time, of the Saarebas- the Qunari collar, chain and leash their mages like tamed lions… except the lions they treat with kindness. _Saarebas._ His master would lecture aboard that blasted ship which took him to Seheron to begin with, _The word is an accusation, an acknowledgment, and a name. Do you remember what it means, pet?_

_Dangerous thing._ Fenris replied.

_Explain it to Hadrianna. She has never seen or heard of a Saarebas._

He turned to the Mage. She was Denarius' top apprentice only so long as her knowledge and talents remained at the highest level. Having Fenris giving her knowledge she could not obtain otherwise stuck in her like a poisoned dart. Her eyes promised punishment. _Mistress knows._

_She does not, Fenris, or I would not have ordered you to tell her._

He swallowed his fear, _The Qunari… they call us Bas. It means Thing. We are mere things to be educated by Qunari because we are outside the Qun. Mistress and Master are not Saarebas, however. You would be called Bas Saarebas. Redundant, but a distinction. Saaerbas are called Dangerous Things. Their breath can corrupt. If one is unguarded by his Karataam, and his Arvaarad, he is killed because corruption is presumed. Demons are reviled. They are feared, just as the Saarebas are. If a Saarebas were to speak to you… unlikely, because of sewn lips, but if he were, you would be presumed corrupted, and killed by Arvaarad and the Karataam. The Saarebas are cared for, however, as any valuable tool is cared for. They are respected as one respects a blade. They exist to serve the Qun. Arvaraad's purpose is to "hold back evil", to protect all others from the corruption of his mage charge, and to reeducate those who have left the Qun. This I… have gathered from my dealings on behalf of Master, and have reported to him, as per his orders._

Fenris reemerged from his reverie startled to find himself alone. "Free." He murmured. In spite of the fact that the way the Qunari deal with their mages was… controlled… Fenris did not know whether he could approve. On one hand, there was little danger from them… on the other hand, Fenris could identify with the physical chains they wore.

_On a leash… Like the Saarebas._ Denarius mumbled, fitting a thick leather collar to Fenris' throat. They would be speaking with a representative of the Qun, a genteel man by the name of Talis; something in the name made Fenris growl. It was likely not a name as he understood it, but a title. A threat? What did this Talis do? Was he the equivalent of a diplomat? A senator like Denarius? More likely an assassin. _Yes, and you know which bottle to use?_

_Aggrigio Pavali._ Fenris nodded, _I will be near Master._

_Of course you will, my little wolf. Just in case the beast man decides to attack. Keep your blade ready, but do try not to frighten the creature._

That was all but an order to intimidate the horned giant.

_Thinking? Do share your thoughts, pet._

_This Talis… Talis is his title._

_I was told it was his name._ Denarius corrected.

_No, Qunari do not have names. They are what they do, Ashaad, Arishok, Saarebas, they are titles. Searcher, leader, dangerous thing. I wonder if we invite a spider to spin a web about us._ Denarius thwacked Fenris across the jaw with the blunt end of his staff. Fenris reeled from the blow, stepping back to keep from falling. _Master?_

Denarius snarled, advancing on the elf with fury in his eyes. The Mage touched Fenris' chestplate with the blade end of his newest staff, _Never presume to correct me, slave._

Fenris wanted to frown, but the appropriate response was to cower with a bowed head, _My apologies, Master. I mistook myself when you asked for my thoughts._

_Do you think you know so much more than I, on the subject of Qunari! On any Subject?_

_No, Master. I am sorry._

_You are a beast! A thing I may use to please myself, or not! I may kill you if I wish!_

_Please, Master, be merciful, I know that I am unworthy._

Denarius had grinned gruesomely_, _and Fenris knew that his master would not be merciful.

Fenris coughed, shaking away the memories. Such thoughts were unproductive. They slowed his wit, and reminded his body of fear. "Not a slave." He murmured, growling as he looked at himself in the reflective waters of the shallow lake. Probably named for a Magister. He didn't really care what the maps might have called it. He called it a blessing from the Maker's hand. He filled a skein he had taken off of the last slaver he'd fought and tied it. The water would help when faced with the heat of the planes. He knelt at the banks, and washed his face with the cool liquid. Then he sniffed himself. "Can't hunt if the beasts can smell me." He joked. Then he sighed, and decided to scout the area.

Once he determined that it was clear, he took his armor off, piece by piece. Then, looking about, vaguely discomfited by his state, he waded into the water til it reached his shoulders. He dipped back, allowing his head to submerge. He smiled as he remembered one of his treasures. Soap. He splashed back to his things, and pulled the parchment bag out, then tore it open. A whole bar. Perhaps he should have been more careful with the bag. He shrugged and went back to the water, and sat, scrubbing til his skin was almost raw, and then rinsed. With a deep breath, he tossed the bar back to his things, and dove into the lake with gusto, pleasing himself with the realization that he was having "fun".

After an hour of playing, however, reality called to him in the form of a deer, lapping the water not far from his armor. Fenris grinned, and his stomach rumbled, reminding him that he could use a meal. He licked his lips, remembering the taste of venison. "A pity I am not an archer." Fenris groused.

_The moments ticked by in near silence, as Fenris watched Sharna draw her bow. Her body was fluid, strong, taut. She was dark skinned, with coppery hair, and brilliant eyes. They looked blue. "Kill it." Fenris breathed, eyes riveted, excited, not because of her beauty, but her strength. Her ability. She was enthralling. "Sharna?"_

"_Wait, Fen'llethalin. You see only the doe. I wait for her mate."_

"_Her mate?"_

"_Shh. Why, think you, is she so heavy with calf if she is not mated?"_

"_Heavy with…"_

"_Yes, Fen'llethalin."_

"_Why do you call me that?"_

"_It is your name, and your place. Honored friend." She said, cryptic in her own way. "Mama was Dalish. I speak her tongue."_

_Dalish. Of course. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes as his… friend waited. She hissed in delight as she loosed her arrow, when the buck made himself known. She immediately drew another, and within a moment, the buck was down. His mate was gone. Bounded away in fear. She would calf soon. He cocked an eyebrow at her as she drew one more arrow, and pointed into the treetops. She loosed it, and with a thud, a great cat had fallen from the boughs above them. Fenris, startled, drew his sword, and attacked the mewling creature, granting it death._

Fenris shook his head again. Blinking as the creature bounded away from the water. Fenris was upon it in an instant, though. It fell with his hand crushing its heart. "That would have been easier with the use of a crossbow." He muttered in arcanum.


	5. Chapter 5 The Talons of the Hawkes

_So for all you guys who haven't seen the poll I posted yesterday, I asked whether anyone would like to see a Hawke chapter, pre-blight. The response was unanimous- Yeah, there was only one vote, but one out of one is still one hundred percent- Yes to a Hawke Chapter!_

_Sooo, here it is. _

_OH! Before I forget, I quoted a poem by Dylan Thomas, Do not go gentle into that good night. It's one of my favorite poems ever! So credit where it's due, to both Thomas and Bioware. _

Tea with Demons, and a gentle father

_Li'rae…_

The voice, like softness and velvet, tore against her in a way that set her mind skittering, trembling, and warming. "I will have nothing to do with you, Demon."

"Oh, but think of all the fun we could have…" The landscape shifted, swirling, Li'rae saw a pond… or a lake, heavily shaded with palms, brilliant white sand, blue waters. There was no mother. No Bethany or Carver, no sick Papa. To worry over, only half formed faces, ideas, beautiful gleaming bodies stretched upon the sand, a soft, peaceful laughter. "No templars here Rae Rae." The demon whispered throatily, only paradise." It whispered to her, tugged at her hidden desires.

"You really think you can tempt me to sell my soul for a templar free beach, Demon? You don't know me very well, at all." She shook her head, lips quirked in a fierce grin. With that, Li'rae dragged the images and burned them with her magic. Then, she laid out a scene in which the Fade was empty, the Black City, still golden, her sister, free from the potential influence of demons, and her father strong. "Now, if you could offer me this…? Hah, I might have considered. But no evil is capable of purification. No Demon can make a deal which erases herself. No Demon is capable of cleansing a Mage, only twisting, only tormenting. You will not have me, creature. You may as well let me rest, and tickle the mind of some poor circle mage longing for freedom. I will not be toyed with." She spoke the words, almost discarding them, as though the Demon's influence was that negligable

"Come now, Rae Rae, I can give you many things…" The creature touched herself suggestively, and Li'rae sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I'd rather sleep with a dwarf. You are not helping your case. Oh, and you can not start calling me that, it's rather irritating. To you, and everyone else, my name is Hawke. Now, scurry along to that circle mage I told you about earlier. I'm sure there's one in Ferelden somewhere. Go on. I'm not buying what you're selling." The Demon vanished. "Gah, stupid creatures."

This was when a greater beast approached. It looked like a cross between an ogre and a dragon whose last firebreathing had gone horribly wrong, backfired and somehow managed to melt every inch of its skin. "Hello, Pride. How do you do?" Li'rae sighed, "Can't go one night without a visit, can we? My answer is still no."

"You wound me, Hawke. I simply came for the pleasure of your conversation."

Hawke laughed, "My conversation is pleasant? Half the time I call you a beast!"

"Unimportant. Your wit is unmatched by any of these lowly creatures. As is mine."

"I'm sure there's a Lady Pride out there just dying to meet such a fine specimen as yourself, dear. Go find her."  
"Tisk, Hawke, I thought we were friends."

"You know as well as I do that friendship between a demon and a mage is impossible. You only want me for my power."

"You wound me again. I want that tongue of yours, and that smile. You are as beautiful as cunning, and as willful as magical. Together, we would be unstoppable."

"No. Together we would be you. You might be unstoppable. I would cease to exist, and you would eventually be hunted and destroyed along with my body, which would turn into quite an ugly mess, I'm sure."

"I may be a demon, Hawke, but I have feelings too."

"Then forgive me for the tactless delivery, Pride, but I'd rather not turn into an abomination."

"There are more things in the heavens and earth than you or I have seen. Wouldn't you like to?"

"Come now, that's desire's territory, and I just chased her off. Stick to your cards, Pride, and don't cheat."

"I'm afraid that reference escapes me, Lady Hawke."

"It's called Diamond back. Ask Desire about it some time, I'm sure some of her thralls have sold their souls for the coin to pay their debts. Perhaps she's played a game or two. You could be great friends."

"Doubtful. Desire is all smut and no substance…"

"Don't say it."

"Unlike you."

"Sigh. You really are relentless. Please, though, I'd prefer to be alone for now, Pride."

Pride bowed, "Let it never be said that Pride denied a lady her rest. I will return another time."

"Of course you will." Li'rae said, sitting in fade grass, rubbing her face. She had a full four minutes before the next demon came upon her.

"Tired?"

"Hello Sloth. No, I'm asleep for recreational purposes. Please leave me alone."

"Wouldn't it be much easier if we all just rested?"

"Actually I would think that after a while it'd get downright dull, Sloth. Now, to pinch myself awake."

Sloth considered for a moment, then, with a shrug slithered away, muttering about _too much effort_.

The pinch, unsurprisingly, did not work.

"Sister?" Bethany's voice. Panicked. Hawke stood, whirling about. She had a bright staff, clutched in her hand, "Sister, help me!"  
Before Hawke knew it, there was a battle whirling around them, she and Bethany stood back to back, "Aahh, Rae Rae and Bethy, in trouble again."

"Ah, Rage. You're normally less eloquent."

"I've been chasing the mouse," He gestured at Bethany, "All around the fade, for hours. It's left me pensive."

"Sleepy? Go see sloth."

"Come, now, doesn't it make you soo-" Li'rae rolled her eyes, and slung a bolt of lightening, followed by a ball of ice cold water.

"Angry?" Li'rae asked, laughing. "No. I'm perfectly content kicking your off color bum all over the fade. How about you?"

"Rrraaahhh!" The creature lunged, sizzling, but before he could move more than a foot, Li'rae had lifted the creature up and tore him apart with a pair of dark fists she could only manage to properly conjure on giant bears intent on eating her baby sister, and demons.

"And that's the end of that." Bethany said, hugging her older sister.

"How do you feel? Posessed?"

Bethany scoffed, "No, sister. I'm fine."

"Good. I'd hate to have to kill my favorite sister. Carver would never forgive me. Hah, mother would hate me… father would…"  
"Can we not talk about how the family would feel if you had to kill me for being possessed? It feels close to tempting fate."

"I love tempting fate! Usually, I use cookies, but talks are good too."

Bethany rolled her eyes, "I hate it when they call me Bethy."

"I don't know who gave the beasts the idea that using childhood nicknames would endear us to them, but whomever it was, could use a swift kick in the rear."

Bethany chuckled, "Agreed, sister!"

"I really wish I could wake myself up." Li'rae said. "I'm so sick of all the bribes, I'd go see Parlon Casling of I wanted that."

"Oh, I don't know, Parlon seems a good sort, for a farmer."

"I think he thinks so too, and wants to spread his sort around."

"Dirty jokes?"

"Just the one, and it sort of flopped… I can't even say it sounded better in my head, because it didn't."

Bethany patted her sister on the shoulder.

"Good morning." Her mother sang, "Wakey wakey, my little birds, Father needs you to gather more elfroot."

Li'rae smiled as the world resolved around her. "Bethy?"

"I'm up, sister."

"Good. Where's Carver, Mother?"

"He is… he left."

"What?"

"He said he was going to volunteer for the battle… He wanted to leave before you woke up… so 'she doesn't steal my thunder.'"

"Typical." Li'rae rubbed her forehead. "want me to being him home?"

"No… no, let him go. He… he needs to spread his wings."

"Mama, enough with the bird metaphors."

"What?"

"You don't even hear youself do you?" She sighed, "I love you mama. I'll go get the herb." She moved across the room, and knelt by her father's side. "I love you, papa." She said, kissing his cheek. Studying his strong features. Strong jaw, dark pine green eyes, fair skin. His hair was blond, almost a light red, but not quite.

"I love you too, Rae Rae." He said quietly, "I wish…"

"I know, papa. Don't worry about anything."

"I… won't live much longer."

"No, that's not true." She said, "I can help you. You know how good I'm getting-"

"It's not so easy, little bird." He said, "I believe in you, but… this is the wasting."

"Oh, Papa." Li'rae whispered, "Don't leave us."

"Promise something."

"Anything." She said with ferocity.

"Keep them safe."

"I will… but only until you're better, papa. You're our strong protector. We need you!"

"Well… We have another protector, Rae Rae. You're very…" His voice faded. "Water."

She gave him a sip.

"Very capable. Anything a father could dream… I am very blessed. Thank… thank the maker for both of you, and your mother, and for Carver. Maker bless his troubled soul. Help him grow…"

"Papa?" Her voice cracked, as he placed a weak hand on her shoulder.

"You are wise, and strong. Your future will be… difficult… but you will face death and defeat him. Do not let yourself be fooled. No demons." He waggled a finger at her with a smile, "Remember that last, little one. No Demons. I'll watch from the Maker's side. Don't forget."

"Here! Give him this!" Li'rae grabbed the potion from her mother, and forced her father to take it. His breathing became deeper, but his eyes fluttered closed.

Li'rae breathed angrily, "No! Father, you promised me!"

His eyes opened briefly, settling on her like a touch. She saw his love. Felt it wash over her, but still she shook her head. "You promised me!"

"What did I promise, bird?"

She shook her head, and recited her recent favorite. A poem, which seemed to her, to hold the answers to their fierce plight. She spoke the words with reverence.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight  
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,  
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.  
Do not go gentle into that good night.  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

"I did, at that, didn't I?" He asked, "That poem also says 'wise men at their end know dark is right'. I will not go gentle, but Rae Rae, please, do not weep for me."

She brushed away a tear which had somehow loosed its self of its own accord. "I can't help it."

"Do not let the demons use me against you, pup."

"I won't, Papa." She said. "Love you. I go to gather more medicine."

"Good girl." He murmured.

When Li'rae was finally able to tear her eyes away from her father, and place them on her mother, the gray haired lady nodded, "Good girl." Her eyes full of gratitude. Li'rae knew that her father was holding on for her. So did Mother. "Good girl."


	6. Chapter 6 Chains of Significance

_So, you guys are awesome! Especially you guys who review RPGgirl514, Exxie and Zeden, most recently. All of you guys who have favorited and followed the story, as well- sorry for neglecting you earlier. The words you don't recognize as English are usually curses Fenris uses throughout the game, like Festa Vass, or Venhedis, the phrase with the * next to it is translated just below this. I got that from an Arcanum page on Dragonage wiki. They have more words for the Qunari than from Arcanum- Tevinter's language- but I'm making due. I haven't made anything up completely yet, I'll let you guys know if I do._

_As always, thanks if you decide to review, let me know what you think about the chapter, I put a little something semi-unexpected in near the end. If everybody hates the idea, I might scrap it. If not, yay. OK, guys. thanks for reading and reviewing._

*Only the living know victory,*

Fenris sighed. Left, right, east, south, west, who cares? Who cares as long as it's not Tevinter? Fenris' plan to make his way to the highways was thwarted. The south was cut off. East, however, led to the forest of Arlathan. The Veil was torn there, magic ran wild, and beasts made of nightmares preyed upon the unwary. Fenris couldn't help but snarl at the thought. Corpses, dragons, wyverns, and giant spiders all were known to haunt the place… not to mention the souls of the unwary, who had supposedly perished when Tevinter sank the fabled city of the Elvhen. And Demons!

"Na via lerno victoria*," Fenris muttered. "and my choices all spell death." He then catalogued his meager lot of supplies- all gleaming in his eyes like a vast fortune, because they were his! He owned them. No one could take them unless he allowed them to do so. "Three days of food. Half that of water, unless I drink so sparingly that I am parched. Two elfroot potions, courtesy of a kind farmer's outer field, and my own skill… six sovereigns, eighty silver and forty silver, for the pack and other supplies needed… perhaps… no. Too open. There is no refuge upon the silent plains. Must not…" As he muttered to himself, he felt eyes upon his back.

The lyrium burned as he whirled around, "What?" He barked at the hireling. A young human man. Poor. He had been cheap.

"I- I-"

"Speak, or I will regard you as a halfwit and leave you along the road!"

"I spotted a man, around a foot taller than you, dark hair, grey eyes. Magister's staff."

"Fasta Vass!" Fenris growled, "Go. Try to lead him away, back toward Qarinis. If you succeed you need no longer follow me. If you die… you will be dead. If you lead him to me, I will kill him and make your death agonizing. Do you understand."

"Yes." The man chuckled, "This ought to be fun." He said sauntering in the direction he had come from. Fenris collected his treasures quickly, and trudged eastward. Forests mean water and wildlife. His prospects weren't so good that he could ignore the obvious benefits such a place could offer.

"Fasta Vass!" He snarled, as he noticed that night was encroaching, and he had hardly moved more than ten miles. He could, if he looked back, still see the mountains he had passed en route to his current position. "This is not going well." He grumbled, brushing the flecks of dried blood from his skin. I hate corpses. I hate skelitons. I hate Spiders, wolves, bears and all other manner of wildlife, and I especially Hate Sylvans!" He roared accusingly at a nearby tree… not a sylvan.

"Freedom." He spat. "At least I choose my own hatreds, now." He noticed the heat of the lyrium a bit belatedly, "Shining like a beacon in this gloom…" He muttered, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself. Willing his marks to dim, which they did, after a moment. He wiped his sword, irritated. "Should have walked the desert plains, faced the hordes of slavers. Would have been… more palatable."

Fenris trudged along for a little longer before stopping beneath an ancient of the woods. A giant. The tree had recently fallen, covering a small gully almost entirely. He lay down, and by a little light from his marks, oiled his weapons and armor. Then he slept. Fitfully. Better than usual.

_The fade was a place Fenris abhorred. The twisting touching whispering of it set him on edge. He looked down, no markings. The hair in his face was dark, brown maybe. Definitely not the normal white smudged with red and brown dirt. "And here again," He murmured._

"_Fenris!" The ghost of a smile sat upon a small boy's lips. "I missed you, come, let's go on an adventure!"_

"_This is the Fade, child. You do not exist. You are a demon twisting at my memories. Be gone!"_

_The boy's body fell away, "Mage blood? In a warrior?" The purple, horned temptress, ran her hands down her sides. Fenris was not fooled. Demons fell into typical patterns. Rage. Sluglike, licked with fire. Hunger… pus sacks hung all over them… positively revolting creatures, enough to curb even a dwarf's appetite. Sloth- probably spikey, lumbering, slow, easy deals, no combat. Desire- purple, horned, whoreish. Pride- large melty skin, large arms, plays with your mind. Least likely and desirable to initiate a confrontation with mostly because most fall to its flattery beforehand._

"_I have no idea what is in my blood, but you will not taste it, fiend."_

"_Certainly not. I'd rather do… other things. Wouldn't you?" the creature asked with that tone of hers._

"_No."_

"_Really, Fenris? I can feel it. I could not tempt you with something you did not desire."_

"_I am not tempted, Disgusting creature."_

"_I can change my appearance…" She murmured. Shifting so that her skin was soft, pale, her eyes, brilliant cerulean, lips pouty, with long dusky brown hair, and delicate elvish ears. Her voice was girlish, but not too youthful. She wore a long blue skirt, and a pale pink top which nearly matched her skin tone. "Is this more appealing?"_

_Fenris snarled, drawing on the blade he knew wasn't there, creating it through sheer force of will, "Does it appear that so?"_

_She stepped back, feigning fear, and he almost faltered, thinking that she, like himself, had been a slave- No! He swung his blade in a powerful arch, and cleaved through the fiendish representation. When he stepped back, there it was, the demon in guise of an elf. Unharmed. "Tisk, tisk, Fenris." She murmured._

"_Leave me be, creature!" He roared, "I am no Mage!"_

"_Your singing blood speaks a different tune."_

_He growled, feeling, if not seeing the lyrium light his skin, as he rushed her, plunged his hand into her chest, and crushed her heart._

_The creature feigned pain, then lashed back at him with claws made of magic. They glanced against his will powered armor, and he roared with outrage, as suddenly a bolt of lightning cascaded over the creature's body. The demon whirled, no longer toying with Fenris, as a pair of mages, one with fair hair, and the other midnight black, ravaged the creature. "He's a dreamer." The fair haired mage whispered._

"_So, he won't remember this?" The dark haired woman asked._

"_Of course not." Her companion scoffed, "Maybe a vague impression of some sort of happening, but other than that, no."_

"_Well, then!" The black haired wench smirked, as Fenris backed away eyes darting from one to the other, "I dare you!"_

"_You don't get to do that, now, Bethy."_

"_You did it to me!"_

"_There's a difference."_

"_Oh, sister?"_

"_It was funny when I did it,"_

"_Kiss the dreaming elf!" The dark haired mage, Bethy squealed, "I dare you!"_

"_Do I have no say in this?" Fenris quipped before he'd thought better of it. His eyes shot to his feet and he stood perfectly still, his body quaking before the punishment he knew was coming._

"_Oh, sorry." The mage said, "I forgot my manners."_

_His ears quirked at the apology, fearing a plot. Footsteps rustled, "You always have a choice." The blonde mage said, "Especially in your dreams." She touched his chin, lifting it, so that her eyes met his. Bright green with a dark circle about the iris' outer edge. Then she kissed his cheek, and said, "Make certain your choices are yours, though. Demons plague everyone. No one is immune. Choose from your soul, from your strength, not from your fear, and you will not regret it. Chains can be made from anything. Promises as well as steel or… metals." She looked confused for a moment, "Lyrium… But promises, and steels, and metals and lyrium don't. They can be honor, or swords, or armor or power." Her confusion cleared, and she shook her head._

"_She does that sometimes." Bethy smiled, "Don't be too worried. Well, good luck. I hear mother calling."_

_The two disappeared a short moment before he felt something wet drip onto his face._

And he emerged from his slumber into a rainstorm. His memory was foggy, he remembered faint echos of thoughts, surprise, and significance. His face, however, burned pleasantly in the hollow just below his cheekbone. He had no idea why.


	7. Chapter 7 Demons and Lyrium

_Hello to you, my dear reader, yes you, looking at this screen. Thank you for your support. Without you, my Fenris would not have made it so far from Tevinter… he would have been half imagined, or worse. Without you, I would not have written so much in this story. Without you, my friend, I would not have had the courage to delve so deeply into the fade, and the life of a free Elf… or into the family Hawke. Thank you for reading. Your encouragement means something to me. You are amazing. Cookies for all! Near the end of the chapter Li'rae says that her father used to say… that's the quote below. Not trying to take credit. I came across it and felt that Fenris needed to hear it. Cookies to Edgar Cayce too for the Dream quote. : ) _

_*Dreams are today's answers to tomorrow's questions.  
-Edgar Cayce_

_ OH! Before I forget, I will be using Latin in place of Tevinter, because the DAII wikia says it's supposed to be a mix of English and Latin, and the Imperium is modeled after the Byzantine Empire- offshoot of Roman. I used Google Translator so forgive me if it's terrible._

_*"Mea indiligentiam dona pugione ad hostium."_

_ - My inattention gifts a dagger to my enemy._

_ "Ego sum non inimicus."_

_ -I am not your enemy_

_OK enough of the mushy author stuff. Credit where its due, Boiware, and everyone else._

Li'rae was alone. It was a nice change from the cloying of close bodies and illness, not to mention the bereft ache of her mother's accusatory stare. _Why can't you save him? You're a mage!_ She seemed to shout with every not so subtle glance.

The close quiet of the caves outside Lothering were a shelter. "I'm sorry, Father." She cried, shoulders heaving, body aching. When was the last time she'd slept? "I'm so sorry." She sobbed with all the agony of a weary soul. "Maker, I'm so very sorry, papa. I did everything I could! I'm not strong enough!"

His eyes. His eyes were that glazed empty reserved for corpses… like his soul had fled the pain his body was wracked with as gnarled flesh ate its self away. "My poor Daddy." She closed her eyes, rubbed her raw nose and eyes. "I'd do anything to save you, Papa, I just don't- I can't-" Her breath wracked her waifish body, and her tears renewed. "I can't go against everything you are to save you. Pride- he could help us. He has the strength, but if I gave in to a demon, I wouldn't be your daughter. I wouldn't worthy of you for a father. I love you so much. I promised, Daddy. I promised I wouldn't give in. I won't!" She snapped the word like a branch of deadwood, "I love you, Daddy. Mother wants me… she wants me to save you, but she doesn't understand. If I could, I would! You know I would!"

Her breath shook and then released, "I miss you." She cleared her throat, and leaned against the silty wall, rubbing her nose again. "I promise, I'll protect them."

"Where were you?" Mother asked, voice sharp, cracked at the seams. She needed someone to lash out at as she watched the man she loved wither.

"I was sweeping in a cave, mama. Spider bones, bear poo. You know, they get quite dusty."

"Li'rae! Your Father is dying! How could you be so irresponsible? How could you do this?"

"Like it's my fault? Sure, mama, blame the wasting on me! Come on, give it to me, tell me how much you hate me! Tell me how I'm not good enough, and you wish you would have given me to the circle upon my brith! Tell me how I'm not even good enough to bear my father's name! Go on. He could have done it, right? Could have saved me if I were the ill one. Tell me about it mother!"

Leandra stared at her daughter aghast, and before she could stop herself, she had raised her hand and slapped Li'rae with all her strength. The contact both mortified and infuriated Leandra, but before she could speak one word, there was a frail, skeletal hand on both women's shoulders. "Malcolm?" Mother cried.

"Papa! Sit, you shouldn't-"

"Silence." His voice was strained. His eyes were bright with fever and anger, "You are family. I love you both. The wasting is stealing my strength, not Li'rae. You should never have raised your hand against your daughter. Rae Rae, your mother loves you, try to be understanding. She and I have never been apart. The prospect of dying… leaving you, Lea," He cupped his wife's chin, kissed her cheek, "I could not face it, knowing that the two of you are at odds. Please, for my sake…" His breath, and strength ran short. Li'rae put her arm under her father's, and rested her head against him. "I love you both, so much." He coughed raggedly.

"Let's get you back to bed, papa." Li'rae's voice was strangled, aching. "I'm sorry, mama."

"Me too." She whispered, watching her husband and daughter. "Oh, Malcolm." She fell to her knees and wept.

"I'm not dead yet, woman!" He groused. "Get over here, go outside Rae Rae. Mother and father need some alone time."

"Oh, for the Maker's sake!" Li'rae muttered, scurrying away, as her mother went to her father like a lovesick pup.

Secretly, though? She smiled. He was feeling strong today.

"_Hawke!" Pride grinned toothily, "I have been waiting."_

"_Well, at least Desire had something better to do, than pester me."_

"_Oh, she didn't. I chased her off, knowing how you abhor her crude advances."_

"_They are less pretty than your flattery."_

_The demon laughed, "I speak nothing save truth, my friend!"_

"_Not friends, Pride."_

"_Sure, sure, father knows best. Tell me, how is he?"_

_Her face clouded, "Poorly."_

"_I do wish you would let me help you."_

"_I bet you do."_

"_I would require nothing, save a moment of your time-"_

"_Pride, I told you, I will not deal with demons."_

"_You would rather your father die a horribly painful death?"_

_Li'rae stood, turning toward the creature, and pointing her finger, "Do not use my father like that." Her voice was low, boiling with fury and fear and pain, "If I ever hear such a phrase from you again, I'll have to find myself another pride demon to keep the lesser demons away."_

"_A threat?" Pride asked, growling low._

"_A promise. I admit you are more palatable than Desire and the others, but do not take that preference as an allowance to use my father in your schemes. I will not allow anyone, not even my own mother to use my father against me. If you and I must fight because of this, so be it."_

_He considered for a moment, then backed down, "I see grief has made you less than amiable. I apologize for my misstep, for even though you do not think on me as a friend, I do think of you as such." He bowed, "I will make it clear to the others, that a trespass against you, this night, is a trespass against me. No one will bother you, Hawke."_

_Li'rae looked up, but he had already vanished. "Thank you." She said quietly._

"_Sister!"_

_Li'rae sighed, "Bethy? Not in any life threatening danger, are you?"_

"_No, the Fade is oddly silent today, sister."_

"_It's…" She struggled to speak the words, "Well, a Pride demon. I snapped at him, and he said he'd make sure everything left us alone for the night."_

"_Did you make a deal?"_

"_No. I offered nothing. I gave nothing to him. He has been trying to get me to make a deal. Pushed one too many of my buttons, though. I threatened him, then paid him a sort of compliment. Then he apologized and went away."_

"_Be careful, sister. Demons are dangerous. Especially pride demons."_

"_I will, Bethy." Li'rae said. Then the two linked arms, and took a stroll._

"_Is that… Oh, this is just too good! Sister, the Elf!" She said, pointing at a lanky male elf with dark hair, and pretty green eyes. His head swiveled as he heard her voice._

"_Do I… know you?" He asked, eyes just a little glazed._

"_Not well, but we've met." Bethy said, "You are rather better acquainted with my sister."_

_His eyes switched to Li'rae, and she felt she saw them clear a bit, "Hello." She said, "I'm Hawke, and this is my sister Bethany."_

"_Hawke… Ah… I am… Fenris." He said, shaking his head, "My mind is unclear. How I loathe this place." He snapped quietly, then he stilled, and Li'rae could practically scent his fear._

"_Hey, it's not so bad. In fact, it's anything you like." She said, swirling her arms about to create the likeness of a cozy room and a roaring fire. "See."_

"_You… are a mage." His voice hitched._

"_Yes, but you knew that."_

"_I did." He confirmed._

"_This is all a lie." He waved his hands, dissolving the illusion._

"_You obviously don't know the fade, my pointy eared friend. Things here, are ever changing, ever shifting. This is a place where imaginings are true, like your sword, the last time we met, and that armor. Like my staff. The very substance of the air is of your imagining."_

"_It is all vain fluff which has no bearing on the struggles of men, free or enslaved."_

_Hawke appeared pensive before she spoke again. Fenris almost feared that he had cursed her to ire, but then she smiled, in a very sad sort of way, "My father always told me, '*_Dreams are today's answers to tomorrow's questions.'"

"He must have been a mage too." Fenris snapped, bitterness bubbling to the surface, burning his skin.

"He was." Hawke said with a smile… "Is… for a while, yet."

"What?"

"My father is dying." Li'rae said, "The wasting."

He twitched, eyes ghosting over a thousand faces all writhing in agony, burning as their flesh attacked its self. Screams, pleas for help. Pleas for death. "I… would not wish that on anyone. Not even a mage. My condolences."

"Thank you." Bethy said quietly, eyes obscured by her bangs as she looked down, composing herself.

"I… you are sisters?"

"Yes." Hawke said.

"You do not look alike."

"Hawke…" Bethy pronounced their shared name carefully, "Favors father."

"That is a gift." Fenris said, "When years have passed and your memory of his face fades, all you need do is peek at your own."

She smiled, "Thank you. That was unexpectedly kind."

Fenris shifted uncomfortably, "You are welcome."

"I favor mother, as does Carver."

"Your mother must be beautiful." Fenris spoke the expected platitudes with the deftness of a slave trained that the absence of such words meant pain. She was tickled by them, however, not seeming to have expected the compliment. It was… gratifying.

Hawke's eyes narrowed on him, however, distrust coloring the green orbs. "Pride?" She sniffed. "You should be able to do better than silly compliments. My sister will not fall to flattery."

Fenris had fallen naturally into his fighter's stance at the mention of a demon, he looked about wildly.

"Sister, he's just a dreamer. Not a demon. We could feel his power if it were otherwise."

"I'm not so sure." Hawke growled. "Fenris, is it?"

He cocked his head at her, realizing, "You think I am a Demon? You are a mage!"

"And so must be on constant guard against them." She said quietly. "*Mea ndiligentiam dona pugione ad hostium."

Fenris scowled at her use of Arcanum. Then he thought on the phrase. True. If she were more lax in her acceptance of him, she would likely be taken for a fool and turned into an abomination rather quickly. Instead, she had bantered, then as he spoke unnecessary flattery, she became suspicious. He found he could not disapprove. "Ego sum non inimicus." He said. "I am merely a man."

"Prove it."

"Why would pride come in the guise of an elf?"

"An exceptional elf, more than conscious in the Fade? Oh, I don't know…" Bethy grumbled.

"Elves are innocuous. One would think he would come in the form of a powerful magister."

Hawke spat, "All Magisters are blood mages and abominations. I will have no truck with such beasts."

"I approve." He said. "I am surprised, but I approve."

Hawke frowned at him, then appeared to relax slightly. "Where are you from?"

Fenris looked away, "Elsewhere."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Your past is your own, then?"

"Is not yours?"

Hawke sighed. "I was only making polite conversation. Sorry for thinking you were a demon."

"' Mea ndiligentiam dona pugione ad hostium.' I approve this sentiment. Be wary."

"Trust no one." She laughed, the sound reminded him of babbling streams, and wind in treetops. He liked it. "You remind me of my father." She said, "Before the illness. He was always quoting things in Arcanum, and warning us about the possible misuse of our power. He said, 'If I have to kill a demon to take you back, I will, but there will be hell to pay, if it's your fault.' -Which pretty much meant that there would be hell to pay if we hadn't fought to the death in the fade."

Fenris scratched his temple, "Your father sounds honorable. I have met few mages in my time, who are worthy of honor… I can say truthfully, that I hope he survives his illness. If he does not… I wish him well at the side of the Maker, and my hopes go to his family, that they live up to his legacy. The world will be lesser for his loss. If his children do not uphold his ideals, his life will have meant little." His eyes charged Bethany, and she nodded. Hawke's eyes brimmed for a moment, then became sharp, as she accepted the duty of upholding her father's principles after his death. One more burden to carry. She shouldered the proverbial weight with ease, knowing that she would soon be speaking her father's words over her sister.

There was silence for a time, as the winds of the fade, conjured by Bethany's imaginings, tinkled through the stars. Then, that same dark haired little mage grinned, "Sister…"

"Bethy?"

"You know, the last one didn't count."

Fenris' brow quirked, he didn't know what to make of the comment, or the unsettling grin on the sister of Hawke's lips. "May I inquire as to what you are referring?"

Hawke sighed, "Really?"

"Yes, sister!"

"Fine, but you can't refuse next time I dare you. In the fade or no." She strode three steps forward, matched Fenris' one step back, then, took his face in her hands.

The only explanation, for what happened next were three words, "Bethy dared me."


	8. Chapter 8 Allies in the Fade

_This takes place shortly before the Prologue wherein the Hawkes and Aviline escape the darkspawn. From here forward there may be spoilers… probably will. Not many in this Ch, though. Lol. I won't go over too much of the in game dialogue, so hopefully y'all have played it and remember. I may repeat a few favorite lines, but mostly, it'll be my own. Kudos to Bioware, for some awesome lines, and characters._

_OH, I'm not sure on the timeline. I think Act II is when Fenris mentions that he has been free for three years, but, I'm uncertain as to the timeline. Year 1 working as a smuggler or a merc, year 2 getting coin for the Deep roads expedition, and then the time in-between act 1 and 2. If I'm wrong and anyone can give me a more accurate timeline, I'd appreciate it. I'd correct any mistake I unwittingly made. Thanks for the reads and faves and follows, you guys are totally cool. _

_._

_._

"It has been over a year." Fenris growled. "Denarius is still trying to recover me after all this time, all this distance? Of course he is! I will never be free of him. Not unless I rip his foul heart out." He snarled, pacing in his small rented room at the Blighted Bloomers'. He had made it to the so called "Free Marches", and been met with disappointment. The city of Tantervale was a hole. It boasted rich history, a single man had halted the invasion of a great nation, and pushed it back, pressing freedom for Free Marchers from the iron grasp of the Nevarrans, but as with any city which lauded the achievements of the entitled, the seedy character of the middle class offered little hope. Poor groaned in alleyways and destitute sold their lives cheaply into labor hardly better than the slavery he had known. He hired his mercenaries, for Denarius was close, pointedly deceived the captain thereof, and fled the city underground passages, which stank of taint, while, all around him, in low whispers, people spoke of the fifth Blight, and a dead king.

.

…

.

_A stark keening wail brought Fenris to awareness. He knew that voice. His dream…allies were doing battle with some terrible creature. He unsheathed his heavy sword, and flew to their aid, as they so often did for him; cleaving through a horde of rage and hunger demons, til he reached the beleaguered mages at the center. "Bad night?" He snapped tersely as he ran the last beast through._

"_Terrible." Bethy whispered. "Papa…" Her eyes glistened like melting ice, and then the tears began._

"_Our father succumbed to the Wasting this afternoon." Hawke whispered, finishing for her sister, who could not be called upon to complete her words._

_Fenris nodded, "Your loss is… poignant. The Demons will wish to feed upon your pain." It was an observation. He could feel the mage's emotions swirling about them like a heavy storm. "You should rest. Collect yourselves. I will guard you."_

_Bethy's eyes shot to the white haired elf, "I always thought you hated us?"_

"_I hate weak mages who succumb to demons and bemoan their status, using their magical influence to harm others. I… do not believe you are weak mages. I wish to aid you because your kind is rare."_

_Bethy blushed, "Strong mages are rare?"_

"_Strong… may be the wrong word. Good may also fail to describe. You are determined, and thus far you have given me every reason to believe that you will not fall to temptation. I would not see you overwhelmed by grief."_

"_Thank you, Fenris. You are a good friend." Hawke said, wiping her eye, "Bethy, sit, rest; we have a guardian this night."_

_The dark haired mage sat, shooting a grateful smile at the warrior, as she imagined into being, a beautiful daybed with thick quilts and feather pillows. Hawke conjured a large cushy chair, and reclined. "Sleep sister, and dream good dreams for us, that we might dream them too." She said in a husky voice._

"_You should join her, Hawke. Dream good dreams for me."_

"_I would never leave a friend's back unguarded." She said fiercely. "If I slip away from consciousness, you will not have help."_

"_You forgot to say you are still not comfortable trusting me, though we have spoken each night for a year."_

"_I trust you with my life." Hawk said, rising, "But… my father… I promised him that I would protect them." She gestured at Bethy, and phantom images of a young man, a mother appeared behind her. "I will not leave my sister's protection to anyone else. She is more important than anything else."_

_He frowned, "Be careful. Innocent and admirable as the desire to protect may be, it can lead to broken ideals. When 'as long as she is safe' becomes a mantra, an excuse for doing questionable things, her safety is no longer most important. Guard your mind, Hawke…" He paused, "Many a man has given his freedom for the power to keep safe that which he loves, and ended in sacrificing that very love for more power. More safety."_

_Hawke's indignation flared for a moment, before she recognized a careful truth to his words. "You're right. Thank you… again."_

"_I require no thanks, except that you retain your principles."_

_She nodded. Then, the Demons came again, en force. "Maker, give me the strength to protect without becoming a tyrant, and the will to use my power humbly. Guide me to victory against these creatures, for they seek to rule our souls with magic."_

"_And Magic exists to serve man, not to rule him." Bethy whispered from her perch, which had turned from a cushy bed to a dais, and a magical cage with nasty looking runes glittering warningly._

"_Meravas." Fenris said Qunlat rolling off his tongue to spite the memory of his Tevinter master. They fought for what seemed like days, before the horde thinned, and broke. The last demons flitting away into silence._

"_You are an amazing warrior, Fenris." Bethy said, breathlessly._

"_Not to mention pretty easy on the eyes." Hawke grinned._

_Fenris coughed awkwardly, "I- ehm, thank you. This is not…" He gestured at himself, "I normally look a bit different."_

"_The Fade presents us without scars, without harsh lines made of fear and fire. I look different too, Fenris." Hawke said, "My hair is longer, lighter. I have blue tattoos swirling around my eyes, and a long scarred gash from my ear to my clavicle."_

"_I... my disparities are surprisingly similar to yours, Hawke." Fenris whispered, wondering if she meant to mock him with her words… but he could not doubt the sincerity in her face._

"_Then you must still be gorgeous." She said, wide mischievious smirk lighting her face. His stomach twisted into knots._

"_You are a beautiful woman, Hawke." He said, almost ashamed of his words as they tumbled from his lips._

"_Well, now, sister!" Bethy laughed like a sprite._

"_Hush, Beth." Hawke said, blushing._

_For a moment, they were quiet, smiling abashedly at each other, and might have continued in a similar situation for longer than either would have cared to recount, were it not for the nagging scent of waking, "I… I apologize, perhaps we will find each other again on the morrow?" Such were the words they had spoken every morning for the past eleven-month. _

"_I look forward to assisting you with your demons." Was the answering reply._

.

…

.

_Fenris awoke to a terrible stench, recalling little of his dreams except that he had cleaved through hundreds of horrid creatures. "Talk of the Blight is getting to me." He muttered, collecting his meager effects before moving on, quickly and quietly, through the under roads._

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_Hey guys, another thing I wanted to tell you guys, I have a poll up related to the story. I want your opinions. _

_I'll post it here too in case it doesn't show up on my profile page. Thanks to the two who already answered the question, Exxie, I think, and someone else. Again, thanks for the reads/reviews, and I hope you're enjoying the story._


	9. Chapter 9 Sentiment

OK, the results of that poll are in, 50% say go for it, 33% say they always wanted to trade Carver for Bethy, and 16% say they reluctantly place their reading enjoyment in my hands. The readers have spoken. There were no votes in Carver's favor.

Tarian means shield in welsh

…

_Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. _

_Foul and corrupt are they_

_Who have taken His gift_

_And turned it against His children._

_They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones._

_They shall find no rest in this world_

_Or beyond."_

Chant of Light, copied by Malcolm Hawke for his family.

_My family, if they are _gifted_ by magic, shall ne're be Maleficar, so I swear. The Hawke mages will be wise and gentle. They shall use their gift to the benefit of the Maker and His children. They shall be a resting place for the weary of the world, and guardians of eachother, in the fade._

. .

…

. .

When Hawke returned home it was nearly night, she found a very distraught household. "They're all Dead!" The first words spoken as she walked through the door. "All of them! Leandra, stay away from the edge of town, warn your children."

"Of course, Warren. They will be most careful."

"That Qunari Animal killed-"

"There's a Qunari animal, what does it look like? Spots? Stripes? I always thought the Qunari might keep spotted cats." Li'rae asked, "Well? Tell me."

"The creature is locked up at the edge of town. It killed the all of them!"

"Eh, right. The spotted cat killed the lot of them. You said that… no, maybe it's best not to mock the greaving, Li'rae." She said to herself, as she caught herself trying to think of a good one liner.

"It was not a Qunari's beast, woman, but a Qunari! Though he may as well be a beast, he ripped them apart and sat among them for days."

"What… do you want of us?" Mother asked.

"Your boy, he's strong, a fine lad. We want that creature dead, and we've come to ask that he join us."

"Carver is at Ostagar, fighting alongside the King himself."

The men gathered groaned, and pressed mother, trying to get her to send for him, before Li'rae stepped between them, "My father died not a week ago, and here you are pestering his widow! What gall you have, surely the Templars would not approve of such irreverence in the face of grief?"

The men looked to each other warily, "You gonna tell, girly?"

"This is my mother, we're talking about. I'd cross the void for her." She stood toe-to-toe with the biggest one, staring into his eyes the way father always had. "I'd also ravage a bunch of hateful warmongers for bringing unrest to a matter already solved by the _Revered _Mother, and trying to kill a foreign man who submitted peacefully to punishment."

The men looked to one another carefully, then backed away. "Right. Don't want no trouble. We was just leaving." One of the men said, leading the others backward. The big one went without another word.

"Be good." Li'rae called out as they left the house.

"Oh, Rae Rae." Mother sobbed, "That was awful! They've been here for hours, wouldn't leave, wouldn't-"

"Shh, mama," She wrapped her arms around the grieving woman's shoulders, "Shh. I love you. You should have had Bethy get me."

"I was afraid to be alone with them."

Li'rae nodded, "Desperate men. I won't let them hurt you, mother."

"I know, dear." She said, sniffling as she pulled away from her firstborn. "You are your father's daughter."

"I am also, my mother's." Li'rae waggled her finger.

"Of course, dear, I just meant that of all the children, you take after him most."

Li'rae smiled, "Thank you, mama."

"Yes, well. Dinner. You must be hungry."

"Of course I am, mother!" She cried, waving her hands in the air wildly, "Starved!"

Mother chuckled, "You odd little duck, go gather your sister."

"I'm a Hawke not a duck, mama, you should know that!"

"Silly child, go get Bethy."

"Yes, mama." She said, kissing her mother's cheek softly, "I love you."

"And I, you." Li'rae went to the other room, where Bethy sat with her head in her hands.

"Maker, please make them go away. If they hurt mother I will have to fight them. Please make them go."

"Bethy, love?" Li'rae murmured, sitting on the side of her sister's creaking bed. "Rae Rae is home. I took care of the bad men, and I earned some coin killing bandits. Saved a little boy from them."

"The chanter's board again?" Bethany asked, face still covered.

"Yeah."

"You need to be careful sister. If anyone catches you-"

"I used the bow. I'll not uproot our family by being uncautious. Especially not in a time of grief. There is enough fear among us to trouble our dreams. I don't want any hate from my most beloved sister."

"Oh, Rae, I couldn't hate you." She said, uncovering her puffy, tearstained eyes, and turning to Li'rae with a weak smile. "Never!"

"That is a good thing! I'd be very sad." She said, leaning into Bethy for a hug.

"Mother says that she needs help with dinner." Li'rae said quietly, "She sent me to get you."

"Did you bring home any meat? I'm awfully tired of soup."

"As a matter of fact, there were a plethora of bears about… curiously enough the Chantry is now serving mountains of bear stew, and giving out furry little hats."

Bethy laughed weakly, "They should make a statue in your honor for how much you've given them over the past two years."

Li'rae thought of Dean, a Templar who knew her secret, "I think anonymity and thanks are more than enough."

Beth nodded, "A statue would be rather hard to explain. 'Yes, I killed that army of bear riding bandits, what? They seem to have been burned and frozen to death? No, Ser Knight, I have no idea, someone must have set them on fire before that frost came last night just after I left them. What you think it was too balmy for a frost? Have you been in Ferelden long?'" The sisters laughed heartily.

"If the bandits ever do start riding bears into battle, I'll let the Templars deal with it!"

"Promise?" Bethy snickered.

"Cross my heart, hope to die."

"No needles in any eyes, sister, they're painful enough in the finger."

"Girls? I need help! What part of 'go get your sister to help me' did you mistake, Li'rae Hawke?"

"The part about you needing help, dearest mama, you are amazing, and your cooking is heavenly. What need could you have for our help?" Li'rae said, walking through the door with Bethy trailing behind.

Mother shook her finger at her daughter, who grinned unrepentantly, "I brought goodies, mama. There were bears troubling the area, so I killed a few, and donated most of it to the chantry. I brought home the finest cuts, however." She said, unwrapping the bundle she'd forgotten about from within her pack. "Here, mama."

Mother's cheeks pinked in faint pleasure, "Malcolm loved bear." She murmured as she took the gift to her cutting table for preparation. "Thank you dear."

…

Just as they sat down at the table to eat, the door burst open, "Carver!" Bethany exclaimed, rushing to where he stood, wild eyed, blood stained, pain radiating from his every pore.

"That Bastard killed the King!"

"What?" Li'rae asked, standing.

"Loghain! He left us all to die, that sodding wretch!"

"He-"

"He came up with the plan, and lured the king onto the field. When the tower was lit, he ordered his men to retreat!" Unspoken was the agony of a deep red wound in his shoulder, and the pain of a man betrayed by a trusted ally. "The bastard killed us all!"

Li'rae took her brother's face in her hands, and said, "But he did not kill you all, brother. You stand here. You know the truth." With a minute sign of her hand, she directed Bethany to heal Carver's shoulder. Bethy did so without hesitation. "You are alive."

"The Darkspawn are coming, sister. We didn't stop them. I don't- I don't know what to do."

"I do." She told him softly, "Mother. Gather our foodstuffs, whatever will not spoil. Bethy, grab a few blankets and what supplies we need for a long light journey. We will be in grave danger. Carver, sit. Eat. The Darkspawn will wait while you replenish your strength."

"And you, sister?"

"I'm going to get myself a dog."

…

"Leeland, open up." Li'rae said, pounding on the rickety door. There was a lot of grousing from inside, then a short bearded face appeared just below eyelevel. "My family and I are leaving. I've come for her early."

"What? She's not ready for strenuous travel, Hawke-"

"You said a Mabari will only take one master? She picked me. I paid my due to you, and now you will give me my dog. I'll not leave her behind."

"She's hardly more than a pup."

"She is a big strong girl and we're going to make lots of hulking and fearsome creatures cower in terror."

The man growled then gestured at the kennels, "If I find you took multiple animals-"

"You've known me for three years. Have I ever taken more than my due? Have I ever cheated you? Have I ever stolen from you?"

"Of course not." he said, deflated. "Talk of war is making me edgy. Sorry Hawke. Good luck."

"Thanks." She said, already trotting off to the row of pens in which his dogs lay. One particular caramel colored animal with gangly legs and a broad set of shoulders sat patiently at the gate. "Hey there Tarian."

She barked.

"You feel it too?"

She whined, looking south with something between eagerness and fear.

"Yeah we're leaving this place, girl. Gonna try to escape."

She barked and whined.

"I don't like running either, but… my father asked me to keep my kin safe. I have to honor him."

Tarian placed a paw on the lock, and looked at Li'rae with resolve. "I know girl, we'll do it together." She said as she knelt, and opened the pen. The large animal stood, and bounded out of the pen, barking and rolling. "Hah! You miss me? Or just miss being outside?"

Tarian made a sound that might have been a chuckle if she'd been human. "Come on girl, lets go get the others and get out of here."

…

. .

…

_When Li'rae opened her eyes, she found that Fenris was waiting for her. "I have heard stories of the Blight." He said, "I hope you are safe."_

"_No one is safe in Ferelden right now." She told him. "From the weakest peasant to the King himself."_

"_I… also heard that your King was slain, by the horde."_

"_No. Betrayal killed the king Cailan."_

"_This is not unexpected. When leaders must make hard choices, fury drives lesser men to evil acts."_

"_Yes." Hawke said quietly, "We had to flee our home today."_

_Fenris hung his head, "Expected… yet painful. I am sorry for you."_

_Hawke smiled, "Thanks, Fenris."_

"_How is your mother?"_

"_She's hurting. Everything we had to leave reminded her of Father. I think she blames me for it too."_

"_For leaving your home or your father's death?"_

_Li'rae laughed. It was a rough raw sound, a painful stab at true mirth. "Both, actually."_

"_Forgive me, but she is foolish. It is wise to run from the blight, and your father… he had the wasting. Did she want you to deal with a Demon?" He said the last word with nothing short of fury._

"_Yeah, I know… I think she expected me just to _have_ the power. She is not a mage, so she doesn't really know what a danger… I love my mother, but…"_

_Fenris sighed, and decided to change the subject, seeing the painful thoughts swirling about her, "But where is Bethany tonight?"_

"_She is watching the perimeter with Carver. She will be to bed nearer dawn."_

"_Ah, yes."_

"_Darkspawn, and whatnot."_

"_Yes. Where will you go?"_

"_Thus far? Away from the Darkspawn. That is all I can hope for."_

"_I… am in the free marches." He said, carefully. This was the first time he had revealed anything about his location. He had never even told her where he was from, though his accent pointed to Tevinter._

"_Are you?"_

"_Yes. If… if you found me… I would…"_

"_As would I, friend."_

_He smiled, "I would help you. Watch over you, and your family. You would not be alone in the dream or the waking world."_

_She blushed at the way his eyes were riveted to hers. "Fenris, I-"_

_He noticed the pink blooming in her skin, and asked, "Have I said something wrong?"_

"_No. No, you… I-"_

_He licked his lips, and said, "You know… Bethany, when last I spoke with her, she said… that there… was a new member to your family party." He cursed himself for a coward as the words he had meant to say buried themselves beneath his pride. "A powerful warrior with a grand mind. I assume this is your brother?"_

_Li'rae snorted, "No, my dog. If she'd said a powerful swordsman with an awkward tattoo, that would have been Carver."_

_Fenris cocked his head, "A… do I wish to know?"_

"_No. In fact, I wish I didn't know."_

_He chuckled softly, "No doubt he would tell me if we met."_

"_No doubt! He might even try to show you."_

_Fenris shook his head, "I would not allow that."_

"_You might not have a choice." She was joking, of course, smiling._

_Fenris frowned, what was wrong with him, offering his life to this woman… this mage. He had just escaped one land of dark magic, only to land face first into another potential master. He shook his head, and pulled away._

"_You OK?"_

"_No." He said. "My… instincts say that… meeting would be unwise."_

"_Are you an animal, relying only on instinct or are you a man who reasons based on what he sees and knows? Fear is its own kind of chain."_

_He gave a shuddering sigh, "I am aware." He then began to pace, back and forth for a moment, snatching sideways glances at her while she watched him, pretending to lay back in a soft field of short grasses and flowers. "I… wish to say…"_

"_Yes?"_

"_The time I spend with you is…"_

"_Fenris?"_

"_The time we spend together is the only time in which I am not a man made of instinct and chained by fear. You make me think. You make me feel… safe. It is terrifying."_

"_Would you believe me if I told you I felt the same?"_

"_No, Hawke." He said, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. "But it would be a welcome sentiment none the less."_

_Hawke sat up, "Are you aware that I have been fighting demons in my dreams since before I can remember. At first my father was always with me, teaching. Then I was alone for a while, fighting as a child. After that, Bethy grew into her powers and I was her teacher in the Fade. Always fighting. For over a decade I have been the dominant force, the one without which my sister might be overcome… I have never had a night simply to rest."_

"_Has anyone?" Fenris asked._

"_Bethy has. I've made sure of it."_

"_You are… a kind sister."_

"_Thanks. I try."_

_He sat beside her, laying his blade beside him. "So…"_

_Li'rae smiled, thinking how awkward he seemed, comforting a mage. "You want to ask something?"_

_He nodded, "I am transparent, apparently."_

"_Either that or I'm particularly observant tonight." She cast him a sideways smile, and caught him blushing._

_He coughed, under the guise of clearing his throat, "I… well, you… I apologize, Hawke. I know what I wished to say, but I cannot seem to speak the words."_

"_Then show me?"_

_He laughed, "Show you! Were it only that easy."_

_Hawke leaned over, and nuzzled his shoulder wearily. "I wish all this were over. I wish we could meet in person, and my father was alive, and that you had never been a slave. If I could make the dark of the world go away, I would… but I can't. It's there like a chasm eating away at the firmness of the stone I stand upon."_

_He awkwardly placed his arm around her shoulder and said, "You know that chasm is here in the Fade somewhere. If you fell, I would catch you… or dive after you. Either way, you would not come to harm."_

"_Aww, Fenris." She said, "You do care."_

_He grunted and tousled her hair. "Hush. You're ruining the moment."_

…

_Sorry guys, I wanted to get to Kirkwall in this chapter, but I think it's best that I put in a break here._

_I'll try to get the next chap. done within the next day. Maybe by tomorrow morning, if I'm lucky._


	10. Chapter 10 Given Name

_Thanks for the Reviews Zeden! You're awesome! Part of this is somewhat inspired by your Hawke's jealousy, Mwahahahaha! :D _

…

It had all gone fine. They had a destination. Kirkwall. The city in which Mother had been born. Her family had an estate there. They would be well cared for, and perhaps eventually well rested. The Darkspawn they encountered were the wild attackers, foolhardy and mindless. Easily taken down. Then the Maker decided to smirk at them. Aveline Vallen and her blighted Templar husband. The woman handled herself like a born warrior, sturdy, muscular, and in a practical way, beautiful. Her husband was… ill. His pallor made it clear even as he fought the beasts of the horde. "Well, the Maker does have a sense of humor." Li'rae snapped, "Yeah, thanks for this one." She cast the comment towards the sky.

The children Hawke descended upon the spawn which harrowed the warrior woman and her man, shattering the creatures before they realized that the real threat was not the shield bearer but the fair haired mage. As she burned the last of the creatures to fluffy ashy blighty bits, the Templar advanced upon the easier of the two targets, Bethany. "Apostate! Keep your distance."

"Westley." The woman said quietly.

"It's a Blighted Templar. How- you two are cursed. Darkspawn and a bloody Templar! Eugh." Carver growled, gesturing at his twin, and older sister.

"Brother." Bethany admonished, "You were at Ostagar, and you call us cursed!"

"That was not my doing."

"Neither is this ours. Now hush. We can argue later." Li'rae snapped, inserting herself between the Templar and her sister, "Now you. You and I will speak, Ser Knight."

"The Spawn, at least, are clear in their intent to rip our heads off. A mage is never so kind."

"Well, I've never met a Templar who wasn't a colossal arse, so maybe we can put our labels aside for a moment and… try and live through the day."

"The order dictates-" He began, reaching for his blade with his off hand. Li'rae noticed that he kept the other close to his body. The armor was terribly dented, and there was blood, both black and red, spattering it.

"Love, they saved us… the Maker understands." He looked back at his wife, something resembling fondness and regret passed over his eyes. "Yes, of course."

"You are quick to change your tune."

"Rae, the nice Templar has been convinced to postpone his hunt for illegal mages. Lets not push it, shall we."

"Wise." Aveline whispered.

For a moment, Li'rae remembered Dean. A good man. He knew that while Magic exists to serve man, it was also a gift. 'Some creatures do well, when chained to others… birds of prey are generally not among that number. Hawkes… among others, should fly free.' He had said lightly touching a lock of her hair. Then her cheek. His eyes inscrutable. Then the moment was gone, and she was asking him, "Can you keep up? That wound looks pretty bad, my sister can-"

"I'm fine. I can keep up." He snapped, the undertone of his voice said there was no way in the void he was going to let an apostate work magic on him.

"Fine, stubborn mule." Li'rae muttered. "Follow closely, Templar, hang back with my mother during combat. Your sword arm… looks like a loss."

"He has mine. As always." Aveline looked at him fondly. Then at the orders, she nodded.

Then they were off, fighting what seemed to be the entire blighted horde, everything from hurlocks to genlocks and blighted arcane horrors! A sea of grey and black and green assaulted them, and then, the ogre came. An echo of Pride came into Li'rae's mind, only this terrible creature was hardly more than a beast, and he had horns. Nasty sharp poisoned horns. Li'rae saw it coming, Carver did too. He looked to her, to his mother, measuring the distance between them, "Mother, run!" He shouted, then, he attacked the beast. It grabbed him in its crushing paw, lifted him, and for a moment, everything stopped. Li'rae could see a ghost of what her father would have done.

He cast ice at the beast's chest, weakening it's grip, then tar at its feet, to make it slip, and stick. He flipped his staff and cast a force spell to the ground, lifting himself in the air, and swinging the staff around as it propelled him forward, to land on the beast's shoulders, blade in the beast's throat, casting a wicked lightning spell, then ice, then fire. Carver would fall to the ground, hit his head, and later wake with no worse than a headache.

The world unfroze, and without thinking, Li'rae found herself echoing her father's movements. The beast faltered as the ice hit its chest, it stumbled in the tar. She flipped the staff and propelled herself like a rocket at the creature's chest, it dropped her brother, and she charged it with every elemental spell she could think of, til it's body was naught but a bloody, ashen heap, unrecognizable as an ogre- actually somewhat resembling Pride. Li'rae would laugh at the resemblance when her family was safe, however.

Li'rae snapped the rest of the spawn in the immediate area with fire, and then realized that each of her companions was staring at her as though she had grown a second head. She looked to her brother, kneeling. "Carver, the battle is over. You should get up. There is no way I'm carrying you the rest of the way."

He coughed, opening his eyes blearily, "Sister?"

"Who else could snatch you out of the jaws of a hungry Ogre?" She jabbed him with her finger, "You should have known better."

"Well… better me than mother." He said weakly.

"Better all of us live than any of us die. Father would have killed you for that stunt. If it happens again, I'll kill you." She said. "Now hug mother before she has a panic attack."

She had been fretting on the side of the field, when he finally sat up, and smiled at her, weakly, "I'm alright mother."

She ran to him, thrusting herself into his arms, "Oh, Carver! I don't know what I would have done if- oh…" She cried, "My little boy!"

He gave Li'rae a dirty look, before comforting his mother for a moment… then the spawn returned, and their reprieve was ended. "Sister, I hope you have a plan." He coughed, thrusting mother behind his back, even as he drew his greatsword.

"Eh, um… wait for a dragon to roast them all, then bribe said dragon with cookies."

"What?" Carver turned to her, just then seeing the great purple behemoth swooping down, "I really hope you have those cookies, sister!"

"They don't taste especially good, but I did promise so I'll share." She said, fear making her lips loose.

"Well, for what it's worth, Hawke, I was glad to have met you." Aveline said, as the beast swooped and fired all darkspawn in the immediate viscinity, then grabbed one which still drew breath, and as she dropped the nasty thing, she turned into a most odd sight. "Witch of the wilds." Aveline whispered.

"Well hello, it's not every day we get visitors to the wilds, but now it seems they've arrived in hordes!" She chuckled at her off color joke.

"Eh, hi. I'm Hawke, the, eh, leader of this merry band of misfits."

"Sister." Carver groaned.

"Oh, right, don't overshadow you in front of the great dragon lady. Sorry Carver."

"You said something about cookies." The former dragon said in a whispy yet powerful voice.

"Oh, yeah, Tarian! My pack, could you bring the leather pouch in the largest section. It's right on top." The dog barked happily, and began rummaging. "So, who are you?"

"She's Flemith, the witch of the wilds!" Aveline said, now kneeling at her man's side as he rested. He wasn't looking so well.

"Oh? Eh, aren't you a myth?"

"Not all stories the Chantry forbids as superstion and myth are false, young hawk. Some ledgends live and breathe."

"Fire." Li'rae coughed.

Flemeth chuckled.

"You… you're an apostate?" Bethany asked quietly.

"Yes, just like you, and your sister."

"Mmmhmm, now, thank you Tarian, here are the cookies." She handed over the leather pouch.

Flemeth took the proffered gift with light hands, delicately unwrapping it, "Aah. These aren't bad."

"Mother made them. Say, I'd make you a whole bunch of them if you could get us to Gwaren."

"Mmm, they aren't that good, and sadly, my generosity is at an end." She turned to leave.

"Wait… I suppose we could agree to undertake some perilous quest in return, once we reach Kirkwall."

"Kirkwall? Hmm, as your luck would have it, I have business near there. There is a band of Dalish elves traveling to a region nearby, Sundermount, it is called, if you were to take this amulet to those elves and do with it as they say, I would call the debt between us cleared."

"How much trouble might this cause us?"

"About as much as I endured to save your lives not five minutes ago."

"You do have a point there." Li'rae said, "Well, I don't see how we have any choice. Give me the necklace-"

"Amulet."

"Sorry, the amulet and we can be on our way."

"I shall. But before we go anywhere, there is a problem which merits solving." All eyes turned to Aveline and her husband.

"No! He will be fine! They will not have you, my love."

"Aveline." He choked.

"They already do have him, dear lady." The witch said, dusting her lips of crumbs from the last of the cookies.

"No."

"If you have to leave me, darling, leave me."

"No! Westley, I swore I would drag you out if I had to. They will not have you!"

"Aveline, the corruption, I have- it is a slow death, I can't…"

Her face crumpled as she realized what he was asking of her, "No, Westley."

"What… corruption? The blight?"

"Yes."

"And the only cure happens to be some exotic mixture of death and daisies?"

"You are closer in your estimation, than you know." Flemeth said, "The only cure is to become a Grey Warden."

"And the last of them died at Ostagar."

"No, but they are now far beyond your reach."

Aveline was stroking her man's face, memorizing the blue of his eyes, the angular planes of his face, the broadness of his jaw. "I love you." She whispered.

"I can't decide his fate." Li'rae said, "But Aveline, I am with you."

Her face quivered, caressing her beloved's lips. "Be strong, my love."

She took his proffered dagger, and ended his life with a sharp stab to the throat, cutting cleanly. The blood. She would always remember the blood.

…

. .

…

_Fenris paced in his dream, anxious. He awaited Hawke and Bethy. "Where are they." He murmured, "They are late!"_

"_Are they?"_

_The sword was in Fenris' hands before he could realize that it was Bethy's voice. "Apologies, Bethy. I am… particularly on edge tonight."_

"_Carver almost died today." Bethany said, "An Ogre was crushing him, then Hawke shot herself like an arrow, and charred the creature from the inside out."_

_His eyes widened. "No. Really?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Like an arrow?"_

"_Yep. Some combination of force magic and filial love shot her across a battlefield and straight into an Ogre."_

"_Into- wow."_

"_If it weren't the same look I wore when I watched it happen, I would tease you about your facial expression right now, Fenny."_

_His ears twitched, "Fenny?" He snapped, "What?"_

_Bethany shrugged, "You call me Bethy. I'll call you Fenny."_

"_No. I will return to calling you Bethany. 'Fenny' is not an acceptable moniker."_

"_You are hilarious." She said._

"_I am not!"_

"_You are, Fenny."_

"_Bethany! Please stop calling me that."_

"_Fine, fine. Fen_ris_."_

"_You do not have to stress… where is your sister?"_

"_Tending to our newest companion."_

"_Newest… You can't go two days without picking up a new companion?"_

"_Nope. This one's a red haired lady who could give you a run for your money with a blade. Though she uses a sword and shield, not a claymore."_

"_Lethendralis is not a claymore, Bethany. It is a greatsword, however it is unique. Crafted specially for my hand."_

"_Wow."_

"_My master was vain. He wished me to have a unique sword to strike fear into his enemies. If I killed someone, their bodies were marred in a way peculiar to that blade, so that all would know, and fear."_

"_Well, that was… dark."_

"_It was my life."_

"_But it's not anymore, Fenris. That hate… it's not healthy."_

"_Do you not hate the sickness which killed your father? Imagine it killed your entire past and bent you to the will of a man so depraved he-" Fenris caught himself before revealing his shame. His face was burning, stomach churning as violent feelings and images grazed his sanity, "I will speak no more on the subject, Bethany. Please have mercy and change the topic."_

"_Oh… well… OK… Ummm, we spoke to the Witch of the Wilds today, after Hawke saved Carver. She saved us in payment for cookies."_

"_That is too absurd to believe."_

"_Well, she also wanted a locket delivered to a Dalish friend of hers, near Kirkwall."_

"_You have got to be kidding me!"_

"_I'm really not, Fenris. I swear it."_

"_Cookies?"_

"_Mhm, and they weren't even all that good. Mother burned them."_

_Fenris could not believe his ears, "I can't believe that."_

"_Do you really think I'd make something like that up? It's ridiculous."_

"_You… She is… Hawke really is something, isn't she?" He asked rhetorically._

"_Yeah. She's the best."_

"_Beautiful, strong, willful, and charming enough to woo a witch of the wilds with burned sweets."_

"_Ooh, sounds like someone has a crush on my sister."_

"_I do not! She is… admirable. That is all."_

"'_Beautiful, strong willful and charming' as well, though."_

_Fenris hid his blush behind his hair, and turned away quickly, "Bethany, please-"_

"_Oh, you're so cute when you're embarrassed!"_

"_You! Woman, do not try me!"_

"_You'd rather have my sister try you, ehy?"_

"_Bethany!" He scowled, "You are incorrigible."_

"_You know her name isn't really Hawke. I mean, it is, but that's not her given name."_

"_What?" He asked, momentarily distracted._

"_Yeah, she has most people call her Hawke because she's the head of our family, just the same as they used to call father Hawke most of the time. Only close friends know her real name."_

_He blushed, "So she does not consider me a friend, after all we have been through?"_

"_Of course she does, she's just too bloody embarrassed to correct you. I'm not though."_

"_So tell me, what is Hawke's given name?"_

"_I'll tell you on one condition."_

_He sighed, long sufferingly, "What is it?"_

"_You have to kiss her when she shows up. Not on the cheek, a real kiss." She was grinning, almost giggling._

"_I- no. I will simply ask her."_

"_Would you really? Brave man."_

_He growled, "Oh?"_

"_I mean, you're going to call her out o something that personal. Go ahead, but-"_

"_It would be less personal for me to force myself upon her?" He was angry, his words louder than they should have been._

_She cocked her head, completely unafraid of the moody elf. "Force yourself on her? Like when I dared her to kiss you?"_

"_Eight months ago, and she has not repeated the act. Bethany… forget it. She will either correct me or not."_

"_She likes you, Fenny." Bethany said, "Thinks you're handsome. Admires your valor. I do not think you would be ill received."_

"_These talks are fruitless. Dreaming. It means nothing. Maraas."_

"_I don't know what Maraas means, but if it really meant nothing to you, methinks you wouldn't snap so hard."_

_He gritted his teeth, and remained in silence._

"_No response Fenny?"_

_He blushed furiously from his chin to the tips of his pointy ears. "Silence, mage."_

"_Silence is what revealed you, Fenris."_

"_You… know nothing of me."_

"_I know you like her. A mage, golly gee, how surprising. You're practically infatuated."_

"_You are being cruel." He said quietly. "Hawke has not told me her name because she does not wish me to know it. Leave the matter be."_

_She frowned at him. "Why, then was she smiling when I woke her last night, while you spoke."_

"_She is a happy woman." He guessed._

"_She talks about you, mostly just when we're alone, because the others wouldn't understand. She blushes, and remembers your words like fresh scented petals."_

"_You are being cruel, Bethy. Please, cease this. It is pointless."_

"_If you kiss her tonight, you'll know for certain."_

"_I already do know. Thank you for your hopes, but I know better."_

"_I've known her twenty years longer than you have, Fenris. Maybe you should trust the cunning mage?"_

"_You could be a desire demon, playing on my trust of Bethany. I will not succumb."_

_She snorted. "You know who I am, if you'd thought even for an instant that I was something else, you would have struck at me."_

"_True." He smiled. "Please leave the matter be, Bethany."_

"_Fine. You're a stubborn one."_

"_So I have been told." He said, "It is… gratifying to have the option to be stubborn. To be able to refuse is a pleasure nearly matchless."_

"_Really?"_

"_For a slave, refusal meant pain. No one volunteers for pain… at least, not willingly."_

"_What?"_

_He looked at her askance, "I… would tell you a story of my past, in return for her name."_

"_Would I ever hear the story otherwise?"_

_He grunted, "Not from me."_

"_Hmm… Seems a fair trade."_

"_The name?"_

"_Li'rae Teleri Hawke."_

"_Li'rae Teleri?"_

"_Teleri is her middle name."_

"_Ah, so her given name is Li'rae."_

"_Yep. Most of us just call her Rae."_

_He smiled, thinking of sunshine, and meadows. "It fits."_

"_I call her Rae Rae, and she calls me Bethy. Carver is Arvie. He hates it though." She giggled._

"_Arvie? I think I'd hate it too."_

"_Yours is Fenny!"_

"_No it isn't."_

"_Yes, it is! It's what I'll always call you, at the very least in my head and in private."_

"_I… can not stop you." She stuck out her tongue at him, and he cringed. "You are a strange woman, Bethy Hawke."_

"_And you have a crush on my sister. Now, to the story!"_

…

_.;._

…

_"Two years past the beginning of my memory, Danarius bought a little girl. She was to be a maid or a gardener or something of the like when she grew up, but for now she was a nuisance. Always here or there, bustling about like a mad thing with no place to actually go." Fenris smiled, "She was very tiny. Hardly more than a babe. She called me Fen-Fen, after a while because she couldn't seem to figure how to say the rest of my name. Sometimes she would just… stutter Fen- Fen-Fen for minutes before I responded. She would show me things, like forgotten food stuffs, or mistakes made by less important guests. Observant thing. I came to care for her."_

"_Danarius saw this and noted it. He allowed her to become my shadow, following me wherever it was safe for her to follow… My master's apprentice noticed as well, and she would have used the girl against me, had Danarius allowed it. He did not. The girl was his tool. His poignard for my throat. Eventually, he made it known that if I ever displeased him, she would suffer. I made a point to avoid causing her any pain at all. Around eight months after I had taken to her, Hadriana called me to perform… acts which I could not… stomach. She threatened the girl. Danarius backed her. I had to choose between bleeding one child dry, or watching my small friend be bled. I did not choose… quickly enough. They were both sacrificed to the Maker damned ritual. I was beaten for failure to obey, and made to watch anyway. I still hear their screams." The last words were quiet, almost less than a whisper. "Danarius held that I volunteered for that agony through an unwillingness to sacrifice what was necessary."_

"_Maker, that was awful." Li'rae said quietly, startling the elf and mage. "No wonder you hate mages."_

"_I-" He blinked, "No, I only hate weak mages that is, those who succumb to demons, for want of power. Danarius and Hadrianna fall into that category. You do not."_

"_Thank you Fenris. That means a lot from you."_

"_I say it often enough."_

"_Still, it's nice to hear, especially with that voice of yours."_

_His cheeks burned, "I-" he coughed, "I- well, I-"_

"_You're really cute when you stutter." Li'rae said with that grin on her lips._

"_I-"_

"_Yes, Fenris. You are."_


	11. Chapter 11 A cookie, a spat and a beach

So, you awesome people, how goes it? Well, I hope. It's 4 am my time and I stayed up all night writing for you! Aren't I awesome? It's a little sappy, fluffy. Yeah. But it's a long one! That's a good thing. OK, my mind might be running a little slow, it's been a long day, so forgive me if something doesn't fit, and let me know.

In case you haven't gotten enough Fenris time to realize it, he doesn't remember much about the goings on in the Fade, and he's not quite aware of that when he's dreaming. It's a product of him being a nonmage in the fade. He's just relieved that the dreams are pleasant.

OK, so reviews are nice, super thanks to Exxie for her review of the last chapter. Thanks to y'all who favorite and followed, but Idk if the site is sending out updates, someone told me she didn't get an update for 7 and 8. If you guys are getting that problem, I'm sorry, I don't really know how to fix it. I can only say I usually update late night or early morning- for me. US Pacific time. And I update every day or every couple days.

Soonish I'll be starting missions for Hawke, so if anyone has an idea of some sort of hijinks they'd like to see our characters in, I'd be happy to take your suggestions in PMs or reviews. Thanks again for being so cool!

Dortoka is Basque for Turtle.

…

Fenris had only the barest recollection of his dreams. They were mostly… pleasant. At least, in comparison to his waking hours. He remembered that there were two women who appeared in the Fade with him, and they three fought demons together very nearly nightly, unless the women had… work? Of some sort. He also remembered mention of a Free Marches city situated on the edge of the sea, dead fathers, husbands, living brothers, ogres, and Flemeth… whomever she was. He was wary of the feeling of anticipation that these dreams stirred within him, yet he could no more avoid the necessity of sleeping, than he could avoid eating and breathing. Nightmares, at least, did not trouble him as they had in Tevinter.

Ostwick was comfortably situated upon the cost of the Waking Sea. Fenris tried not to think about what that meant in conjunction to the pleasant dreams he'd been having. There was no time, however, for roaming the beaches, or enjoying any views. "I am being hunted." He was forced, often, to remind himself. "I must remain alert." He said under his breath, as he perused a market stall for foodstuffs which would keep. Breads, and other baked goods, that was when he saw it. His first cookie. For some inexplicable reason he felt that he would give most of his coin, or all of it, for that piece of pastry. "Bread, Serrah?"

"I, yes, bread, and how many of those do you have?" He gestured at the pastry in question."

"A sovereign's worth, serrah."

"How many?"

"I've got… two dozen in three different flavors, ser."

"And they are nutritious?"

"Sure." The shopkeeper was telling an untruth. "They won't fill you like bread will, though."

"A sovereign in cookies, and one in bread." He said, feeling greedy. "They will keep?" Fenris took out his mediocre coin purse, and extracted the two coins, as the shop keeper looked at him doubtfully.

"Of course."

"That's a lot of food, serrah."

"I am a traveler. I don't get to town often." He said, by way of explanation."

"Seems like what you're buying could feed a whole _band_ of people."

"It might." He replied tersely.

"You a bandit?"

Fenris growled, "Do you make a habit of asking such untoward questions?"

"Only when my patrons look like you."

"Like me." He chipped the words off, and snarled, "And what do I look like?"

"Like a cold hearted killer." The man said, unfazed.

"I have killed many, but each of them chose their paths, and provoked my blade."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Why would I?" Fenris asked. "My provisions?"

"Where does an knife ear get that kind of coin?"

"From dead shop keepers too stupid to keep their mouths shut in front of wealthy and angry elves."

The man bristled, but Fenris pointed at the coin, and said, "I can take it elsewhere."

"You might have a hard time getting it back from me." he said.

Fenris licked his lips, "It would be the work of a moment. Are you going to give me what I paid for, or do I go elsewhere?"

The shop keeper placed fifteen baguettes into Fenris' bag, and wrapped the cookies in a pretty kidskin, then placed them into a smallish box. "For your trouble, serrah." Fenris deposited another silver on the table, and walked away, blending into shadow, then weaving through the streets fearing that he might be followed. After a few minutes, he doubled back, and watched the shop. Four women, six children and one man came and bought pastries or bread, then an armored man came and bought information.

"A knife ear…" Fenris heard, "Tattoos all over his body."

"Yeah, the blighter dropped two gold sovereigns, no wonder how he got that kind of coin …" Fenris heard what he needed to, cursing himself for his indiscretion. All for cookies. He opened the box once he'd gotten to a relatively secluded area, unwrapped the pastries, then pulled a dark brown one with brown spots. He licked his lips, noticing that it was still warm.

Fenris cursed his distracted mind as the smell made his stomach growl loudly. He looked around, noted a large lumpy looking sack around three yards away with suspicion, then bit into the crispy, meltey, gooey goodness. It was very good. If his dreams were filled with things as delectable as these cookies, he could understand his fascination. He was suddenly intensely glad to have bought so many.

…

. .

…

_Li'rae. Fenris relished in knowing her true name. She was sitting when he found her, relaxing in a vibrant light which set her lovely features ablaze. Sipping tea, it seemed. He did not notice until he was before her, that her body was coiled tightly, and features charged with intense irritation. "What comes, Fenris?" She asked, her voice like burning acid._

"_I… do not know?" He said silently questioning her mood._

"_Demons. I apologize. I am not angry with you."_

"_Right." He said, reassured._

"_And how is life as a free man?"_

"_It is…" He wondered for a moment what he should say. What he could say, to ease her, "You inspired me today." He told her. She looked at him, the sharpness in her gaze not directed at him, though it still stung. "Bethy told me about that escapade with the witch of the wild. I… bought cookies."_

_Her lips twitched, "Did you?"_

"_Yes. I can now believe that you personally lured a dragon to your rescue with pastries."_

_She snorted, but her mood remained sour._

"_If you had more, I might even believe that you could stop the blight with them."_

"_You are a strange elf."_

"_Cookies are delightful. Before today, I had heard of them, but never tasted them."_

_She looked at me doubtfully, "Never? You never had a cookie?"  
"No. Not even in my dreams. Slaves are not permitted such luxuries."_

"_Mother baked all the time when we lived in Lothering. Especially when father was sick. He told her that cookies made him feel better."_

"_I believe him." Fenris said, trying to goad her laughter. "They certainly made me feel better."_

_He got to watch as a small smile bloomed on her lips, and pinked her cheeks, "Enjoy another for me when you wake up."_

"_I will." He promised, thinking, 'anything to make you smile.'_

"_Can I ask you something?"_

"_Yes." He said._

"_And… you promise not to spare my feelings?"_

"_I… would not lie to you." He said, not certain he was telling the truth, if by telling a lie he could spare and not harm her._

"_Do you ever… dream… aside from this? Did you? Before we met?"_

"_I… my mind conjured images, and the creatures of the Fade made them dance. I always… knew, when it was a demon had latched onto an image. It seemed to take on more significance. Beyond that, I sometimes remembered beatings. Sometimes, remembered… a ritual… which imbued my body with the extraordinary strength and power Danarius required of his pet." He snarled, "It was excruciating. I am glad I am no longer plagued with such memories in my sleep. My time with you is… pleasant."_

_She smiled, "Thank you, Fenris."_

"_You're welcome."_

"_Do you believe that… one should provide for their family regardless of the consequences, so long as it does not involve demons, and blood magic… specifically smuggling?"_

"_I… cannot say. If I had a family, and smuggling were the only way to provide them a home, I would not hesitate. However, if slaves are involved-"_

"_I would _never_ do that Fenris."_

"_Never?" He asked. Raising a brow._

"_No. No amount of money is enough to buy a man's life."_

"_Some men sell their lives very cheaply, though they call their living free."_

_She contemplated his words for a moment, turning them over in her head, before saying, "Some men, for the sake of preserving their lives, do not live."_

_He blushed, "Are you- I do-"_

"_Fenris, I was not speaking of you. Some of the refugees in Kirkwall… they're so frail, and they… they kill and steal from eachother, fighting over scraps. They say, at least we're alive, and I say, don't be stupid. Not one of them are really alive! I have tasted what it is to live. I have stood on the peaks of mountains in thunderstorms, and I, at the center of it felt every droplet before it fell and bathed the world!" She said, watching as the scene before her reflected her words. She shivered._

"_I have watched such power drive men to madness." Fenris said carefully._

"_I was not the cause of the storm, Fenris. I used no magic to incite it."_

"_No? Not even a little?"_

"_I swear it. This was a natural storm, and I did get reamed by mother for getting soaked in the storm, and not coming straight home, or hiding. It was just after… marriage talks."_

"_What?"_

"_Mother wanted to find me a husband. A hardworking man, willing to protect me and overlook the fact that I was a mage." She said, "Probably a farmer."_

"_I cannot fathom that."_

"_I agree, and said so. Me! A farmer's wife with eight children and a garden? Me, a woman who can't keep a rosebush alive save for the Maker's intervention? No."_

"_You, a beautiful, vivid creature, unwilling to accept your role in society, forging a new one through familial devotion and dumb luck." Fenris chuckled, "No Hawke, you are not suited to a static life."_

"_Thank you, Fenris." She said, "Beautiful, vivid? That was sweet."_

_Fenris looked down, and stilled his jittery tongue. Every time that woman paid him a compliment he stuttered like a boy. "I believe it to be true." He said, he hoped, coherently._

_She nodded, "You know, as long as we're saying what we believe is true, I think I should tell you, you are absolutely the most handsome elf I have ever met." His cheeks flamed, and he tried to hide it, looking down so that his hair hid his blush. "Also, I should tell you, Hawke is a family name. I don't usually let people outside the family call me anything else… but I'd like it if you called me Rae."_

_His heart jumped, "Rae?"_

_The chair she had been sitting in slowly coalesced into a soft looking mat of fabric with blankets and cushions. "Sit with me." He obliged her, placing himself after brief consideration as far from her, at the center of the mat, as he could. "Really? Come a little closer."_

_He reluctantly followed her direction, keeping just out of reach. There was still an arid tension in her which made him nervous. "What is this about, Rae? There may be demons about."_

"_It is the Fade. They may be anywhere, but I am tired. I killed twenty-seven men this evening. Fourteen of them were hardly older than children. Blighted Atheneril. Blighted Gamlen and his 'solution'. Blighted Kirkwall and her damnable criminals, and me, damn me for not being able to figure out how to-"_

_Fenris reached out to her, cupped her chin, and brought their faces together for a kiss. It was tentative, purposed more to still her voice than to bring the warmth and pleasure he suddenly craved. When he pulled back to look at her, her eyes were half closed, and she looked far too pleased. He coughed awkwardly, "You talk too much, Li'rae."_

_She giggled, soft. Nuzzled his neck impulsively, drawing herself closer to him now that he had unexpectedly opened the door to such intimacies. His breath was quick. "Then, rather than a peaceful evening at home, I come to find my drunken uncle berating my mother for abandoning her parents for love of my father. And then, in my dreams I am attacked by four desire demons, throwing possibilities of wealth and sex and power, all promising worlds for pennies, for just a moment, just a word, or a touch. All the pain I've ever felt, could be soothed away, and I, though I know what they're doing, though I know it's impossible, I want it! I want everything they offer me so badly I ache with it. I hurt from it. Cutting myself away from their promises was like cauterizing a wound, I am raw, Fenris."_

_He bit his lip, swallowing fear, he smoothed her hair, "Li'rae, you… where… Kirkwall?"_

"_Yes."_

"_I… could…"_

"_Fenris?"_

_The next words, promises were heavy, "I have business yet… where I am. I am nearly one month's travel from you… but my business will take at least that long… in two months time, I will be in Kirkwall, Li'rae."_

_She stilled, "Will you?" Her words were careful. More cautious than he had heard them before._

"_I will. That way, I… can protect you." His reasoning sounded so terribly weak. This woman had destroyed an ogre, ridden a blighted dragon over a horde of darkspawn, and he thought she needed him? His beautiful intentions suddenly withered before his eyes, and he felt sick, certain that he would mistake his concern for condescension. That she would laugh, and tell him all the things he knew about her, and push him away like a soiled towel. Useful for a while, yet disposable. The fade clouded along with his mood, melting the isolated image and as he noticed, he tried frantically to shape it. Anything save this awful representation which colored in vivid detail all around them all the horror, pain, and wilting desire he felt in relation to anything, but especially her. In the distance he heard the harsh crack of Danarius' voice as he snarled 'heel'._

_Rae, Maker bless her soul, noticed the vision of his former master with a cold consideration. She held out her hand, and blasted him to pieces, then looking pointedly at the man who still held her in his half reluctant arms, she waved her hands about, dissolving the terrible fade reality he had conjured, "This is not reality." She said. "This is emotion. Yes." He nodded in response, still vaguely paralyzed by the whip of his master's voice. "Look at me, Fenris." She leaned her forehead against his so that she filled his vision, and all other senses._

"_How can I not?" He wondered aloud._

"_Now… in two months I will be free from my commitment to Atheneril." She told him._

_Crushing disappointment filled him. The next words from her lips would be assurances that she did not need him._

"_Look around you. You made me feel… this." He pulled back from her reluctantly as he felt the warmth of a noonday sun, the cascading of waves off in the distance and not quite salty seaspray peppering the air. Their mat was suddenly on a ribbon of white sand which glittered and reflected warmth. There were also trees, willing to cover them in cool shade if the need arose. There was nothing else. He noticed that her attire had changed. She'd been wearing her armor. Now, a teasing band of cloth wrapped around her neck, and down her body, accentuating curves he had not known existed. He flushed, noticing how little she wore._

"_Vulnerable?" He guessed, "And overwarm?"_

_She laughed again, "No."_

"_Misplaced? That is how I feel."_

"_Overwarm, or misplaced?" She asked in a sultry voice._

"_All three. This beach offers no cover. We would be easily targeted from, there." He pointed to a cliff not far off._

_She waved her hand and the cliff disappeared, but the trees grew, and a large stony outcropping rose, all points at the top with a slope from their side. "Now?"_

_He grunted, "It is still a beach."_

"_You are a hard elf to please." She frowned. "Overwarm?"_

_He grunted, "The… sun."_

_She raised an eyebrow. "I've always suspected that you lived in some tropical climate, with palm trees, and a jungle… Hot."_

"_I… they told me I was from Seheron. It is as you describe."_

_She closed the nearly nonexistent gap between them, and kissed him again. He decided there and then that he would go to Kirkwall, if only to experience that slow, teasing touch with his real lips, where her body had a taste that he could not change with a thought. "Swim with me."_

"_You are dangerous, Hawke." He said, his mind languid._

"_Rae. And yes, I am." She said, pulling him to the warm water. "Now, that armor will not do."_

"_I-"_

"_You can have it back if a demon comes along."_

"_What would I…"_

"_Shortened leggings, looser, though." She produced a pair, and handed them to him. They were bright red._

"_Minx." He chided, finding nowhere to go that would provide… privacy from that stare of hers._

"_Mmm. Call me that again, and I'll show you a minx."_

"_Look away." He said._

_She chuckled, "Now, why would I do that?"_

_He pursed his lips and conjured a wooden screen and placed it between them, he peeked out from behind it, "Coquette." He accused. Then ducked back, and changed into those shorts. He looked down at himself, the ugly lyrium brands did not exist in the fade. It was only him. Bare and unmarred by Danarius' cruelty. He cringed, wondering how he would appear to her when she met him in Kirkwall._

"_I'm a coquette! Really? You put up a privacy screen and I'm the tease."_

_He felt no compunction to spare her, "Yes. You are." He said stepping out just as she launched herself at him, tackling him into the sand, he rolled out from beneath her, surprised by her strength, but before he could get away, she grabbed his wrist and tugged him back. "Vixen."_

"_How many words are there for 'tease'?"_

"_As many as there are women." He said to provoke her. He was secretly savoring it._

_She glared at him, dropped his wrist, and sprinted in the other direction, across the endless strand of sand. Her feet left little divots, and her gaite was shambling. He easily caught up. Placing himself in her way. She turned about and sprinted back the way they'd come, scowling. He followed at a playful trot, tugging at her hair, feeling all the heaviness of his life lifted._

"_Rae?" He called after her._

"_Don't call me that!"_

"_You just made me."_

"_I am not a tease!"_

_He bounded in front of her, and gripped her shoulders. She looked at him reproachfully through her eyelashes. "I apologize."_

"_You don't mean it."_

"_But I do." He said earnestly, cupping her chin, "I truly do." Intensely._

_She swallowed, eyes flitting down his chest, and arms, "You are too charming."_

"_Perhaps I am the minx?" He said rhetorically._

_She snickered, "No. You are a turtle."_

"_What?" His voice was sharper than intended._

"_Think about it. You're always holed up in that spikey armor, you're reserved. I never knew you wanted to kiss me… protect me…" She murmured the last words tentatively. "I never knew you cared. I flirted and you'd stare blankly, and-"_

"_Wait? I missed something."_

"_I flirt with you and you-"_

"_How does my failure to grasp your intentions make me a turtle? Turtles are slow, easily frightened, and-"_

"_It was a metaphor, Fen."_

_His face contorted, and for a moment she thought he was going to lash out about the turtle thing, instead, it was the shortened version of his name. "Fen? Why- Fen? Truly?"_

"_You would rather I call you the Dalish equivalent of turtle?"_

_He blinked at her, "You… how did you know that it was Dalish?"_

"_I grew up in Ferelden. We had two Dalish tribes pretty much set up shop. I never got a language tutor or anything, but they respected father, and so they let us listen to stories. Fen'harel is the Dread wolf. Wolf being the Fen part, and… you don't care."_

"_No." He said, "I don't."_

"_Well, sorry." She huffed, not looking nearly repentant enough._

_He raised an eyebrow, "Are you?"_

"_Not really. Only a bit. Dortoka." She grinned impishly, daring him to ask. He almost didn't._

"_What did you call me?"_

"_The Dalish word for Turtle."_

"_Sister! Making up pet names already?" Li'rae spun about to see Bethy comfortably situated in a cushy looking lounge chair, "No, no, this is entertaining, pay me no mind."_

_Fenris was terribly embarrassed, "How long have you been there?"_

"_Since she said she wasn't really sorry."_

"_I suspect you aren't either."_

"_Not in the least." She said. Fenris turned and went to sit on the edge of the water, far away from either woman._

_Bethany asked her sister, "What's wrong with him?"_

"_I suspect he doesn't like unrepentant mages." Rae said, scratching her head. "He's so damn moody I can't get a read on him."_

"_Moody is better than broody." She said._

"_Not by much."_

"_You like your big broody dream elf, so go over and make him feel like it. Go on, I'll just entertain myself over here."_

"_Not a chance." Li'rae said, "He's grouchy, and I just called him a turtle."_

"_Did you think it'd make him feel like being romantic? Go on sister!"_

"_In a moment." She knelt by Bethy's chair, "He says he's going to come to Kirkwall."_

_Bethany's eyes rounded, and her mouth dropped open, "Wow."_

"_It gets better. He's coming to protect me."_

"_Awwww."_

_She lifted a finger to her lips, "And he kissed me."_

_Bethany covered her mouth, "And you called him a turtle!"_

_Rae bit her lip, nodding, "But in my defense, he was calling me minx and vixen-"_

"_Names for pretty flirty women. It fits."_

"_Turtle fits him! He-"_

"_Kissed you, and told you he wants to be close to you. Yes, very turtle like."_

"_I… you make me sound so mean."_

_Bethany pointed to Fenris commandingly, "Go make up."_

"_Now I know what Fenris means by 'the tyranny of mages.'" Li'rae muttered sulking. She sighed, and trotted off to do as she was told. "So… I've been a total arse." She said, sitting beside him. "We were having a perfectly nice evening, and I go ruining it by calling you names."_

_His lips quirked, "Yes, you did."_

"_Well… you could forgive me."_

"_Why?"_

_Rae frowned, "Because… you like me."_

_He looked at her sideways, "I… might."_

"_You do. You got to eat a cookie because of me."_

_He chuckled, "Maybe."_

"_I was led to believe it was a very good cookie."_

_He was trying to keep his frown much harder than he should have had to. "I do not like being teased."_

"_I wasn't teas-"_

"_You were having a laugh at my expense. Explain the difference to the poor slave turtle."_

_She cringed at the very real hurt in his voice, and took one of his hands, caressing it. He tensed at her touch, and was going to pull away before she said, "I apologize." As she leaned toward him. "I can hardly wait to see you."_

_He turned to her, "I am here now."_

"_Yeah, but…" She gestured around, "This is the Fade."_

"_Ah. You wish to see me in Kirkwall." His tone was harsh._

"_Yes." She said, scooting closer, leaning on his shoulder. He tolerated her touch but did not return it._

"_Why?"_

"_Because… I trust you. Because I'd like to kiss you in the flesh. Umm. So that you can… _

_protect me."_

"_Ah, yes." He said, recalling the beginning of the shared dream. "That was foolish. You do not need me."_

"_You remember what I said about all this? Emotion. It's how I feel. Notice, no weapons, no magic, just you and me, on a beach, running up and down on the sand. Playing." She closed her eyes and inhaled a mixture of mistrust and anxiety from him. "I haven't played since I turned ten. Years and years ago, Fenris." He frowned at her, though she couldn't see it. "You make me feel like… it's safe to drop the staff. Safe to step away from the role of protector. I can fry an ogre to bits, but I'm too scared to take off my robes and leave my staff at home even just for a jaunt to a bar."_

"_You should keep your staff with you if you go to a bar. Violence is likely where alcohol meets the lips of weak men."_

"_What's this, you approve of a mage and her weapon?"_

"_I disapprove of a lady in a bar unprotected. That is not the fade where you can pull a weapon from the air. It is not safe."_

"_I've never been called a lady before, Fenris." She said, seeking to change the subject. _

"_No? You are one." Haha! Success._

"_Breasts and all." She chuckled._

"_Lady Rae." He kissed her hair. "I will come to you as soon as I am able." The promise fell from his lips awkwardly, a chain? "I… admit that I am eager to see you with my own eyes."_

"_You know, I don't actually have this outfit, right?" She ribbed him._

"_Yes, yes, make fun of the brooding elf."_

"_You like the attention, and you know it." She laughed, getting up, and then offering him her hands. He leaned back, and looked at her. Really looked, not just a cursory noticing of where she was covered- however scantily._

_He allowed his eyes to curve over her ample chest, and down her waist to her hips, encircling her thighs, and the barely visible from his angle, bottom. His attention made her blush, but she didn't hide. "Perhaps I will purchase an outfit like it for you, then take you to a beach?"_

_She laughed. "No beaches in Kirkwall. The closest you can get here is the wounded coast."_

"_Pity." He sighed._

_She grabbed his hands, and pulled him to his feet. "Catch me if you can." She said, and ran away impishly, stopping to look behind and make sure he was following before she dove into the water._

"_Minx." He called as he chased her._

…

_. ._

…

"Kirkwall…" The city name was on his lips before he had woken. "Danarius has an estate in Kirkwall, perhaps, if I… I could lure him out. Yes."

He was pleased with himself at having come up with such an idea. He could hardly wait to get there, so eager to finally face Danarius! Yet… what if it were a trap? What if the Fade had planted the idea in his head to make him come to the Magister. Images filled his mind devoid of conscious logic, only the timeless beauty of dreaming. Flashes of freckled pink skin, and bare legs splashing in the surf told him his dreams could hardly have been responsible. It was the Mage girl again. He suddenly felt very lonely. "I am pining over a false reality. I must move. If Danarius comes, I can kill him. If not, I will wait for him. Either way, he will die." That was a comforting thought. He stood up, and moved about his business, but not before he rummaged through his pack, and ate another of his treasured cookies.


	12. Chapter 12 For want of Swifter Feet

There was this nagging feeling. He was forgetting something. Something important. He catalogued his possessions. Sword, armor, coin- down to one sovereign and fifteen silver- his food- the box and kidskin wrapper, he could probably sell those. They seemed a fine quality. The kidskin was pleasant against his skin. He found himself stroking it when he was distressed. Aside from those things, he had two daggers he had not yet sold, and a debt he could collect from a merchant based out of another city. Anso, a dwarf with a reputation for selling lyrium illegally. Kirkwall, if he was not mistaken. Anso had… displeased the dwarven Carta, and found himself beleaguered by small hairy assassins. Fenris had helped by making them smaller and possibly less hairy. A hair cut from a greatsword did tend to have that effect. He smirked at his own joke, making his way through Ostwick's undercity. It was awash in refugees.

Something made him see these people more clearly than the refugees of Minrathous or Rivain. Perhaps it was the haunted eyes, the illness, the stench? Perhaps it was the fair skin, and a nagging echo of free lives unlived. "Venhedis." He said without much heat, "The dream mage is a Ferelden."

Was that what he had forgotten? Her origin? No. No, it was something more… imperative. It was nagging at him. Distracting him. He couldn't afford the distraction. _ The pale cloth was hardly opaque, just darker than her skin. Splashes of fade water hit his face as he determinedly leapt after her. She was a better swimmer._ Distractions could be fatal. He leaned upon a table in some seedy inn, "I need a message delivered. A few, actually."

"I'm interested." The accent was Antivan. It didn't matter.

"One to a Dwarven merchant in Kirkwall."

"Easy enough, where is the message?"

"Vocal only." He said. "Tell him Fenris is calling in that favor."

"Of course. You are Fenris?"

"No." He lied. The Antivan grunted, "And the others?"

"To a Tevinter bounty hunter called Callys; 'The wolf took the bait, he will chase it to the squalor of the chained city.' To low ranking magister called Raxanys, 'Your quarry will follow.' The latter two are both situated within the city."

"And are any of these messages likely to get me killed?"

"As likely as that ale is." He gestured at the swill the messenger was drinking.

"Of course." The man said, then held out a palm for his payment.

"Only half up front. Once you have delivered, you may apply for your coin to the barkeep. He will receive it only once the letters reach their destinations."

"Right, right."

Fenris paid eighty-seven coppers. The going rate. "Also, if I am highly satisfied with your performance, you will receive a bonus. The terms are thus; deliver your letter to Anso the dwarf without anyone else's knowledge. If any of the contacts find out who I am, or about each other, you will most certainly not receive the bonus payment, and I will probably kill you."

The Antivan's mouth dropped just slightly, then nodded, "Of course, messer. I suspect you will watch? Just do not blow my cover."

Fenris was highly amused at the human's display of bravado, considering that the twitch of Fenris' mood could have his hand buried in the man's chest crushing the fragile heart found there. Slipping out of that pleasant daydream, Fenris gestured at the door. "You have one week to complete your tasks in Ostwick, and three weeks for Kirkwall."

"Sure." The Antivan said. "I'll just take ship."

…

Damn Antivans.

"At least I got to crush his heart… It is good that I can take pleasure in small things."

Fenris was being hunted much closer than he had anticipated, due to the not unexpected betrayal of his courier. He hadn't anticipated that the human would go directly to the magister, who, if Fenris' reports were correct, was working closely with Danarius. Possibly the name was a cover for the man himself. As it stood, Fenris was lucky his instincts had told him to run away, taking a roundabout path to his current camp. He took up his things, and just as he was slipping away, the courier had appeared. Of course. Another bounty hunter. Fenris took bitter pleasure in the bastard's death. Then he slipped out of town. It seemed that his plans were being pushed forward. He ran for hours, pushing his body to its limits, and then lighting the painful burn of the lyrium, which infused his muscles with new strength, he ran for hours longer, til he was certain that the hunters could not track him. He lay for rest in a hidden gully. Dry. It was summer. He ate a piece of stale bread and, mournfully, crunched his last cookie, though he looked forward with a little more glee than was warranted for rest. He hoped that his dreams this night would be as good as the ones he had had for the past year and a half. He still remembered the nightmarish memories, but not by choice.

…

. .

…

_Rae was standing, back against a tree, arms crossed, a slight smirk on her face as a large beast stared her down. It was speaking in low, deep tones, laughing, though she did not return the expression. Bethy stood a little ways away from her sister, weapon ready. Fenris recognized the creature as a demon of pride, for although he had never seen one, Danarius had a fascination with them. Fenris drew his sword slowly, making eye contact with Bethany, who shook her head minutely. Fenris frowned, "Deal?" He mouthed, sick to his stomach that such a thing might be happening to his- face it Fenris- friend._

_Bethany shook her head._

"_What then?"_

_She pursed her lips, then mouthed, "Later."_

_He reluctantly nodded, as Li'rae spotted him. She gave a grim sort of smile, "I must bid you adieu, Pride."_

"_Yes, yes, mages hate demons. Oh." He turned eyeing Bethy_

_Fenris bristled, and inserted himself between them. A gesture of protectiveness reminiscent of his days as Danarius' pet body guard, but motivated by something entirely different._

"_Ah? And what have we here?"_

"_None of your concern, demon. Be gone."_

"_Curiosity never hurt anyone." The demon chuckled, "Well, no one save the cat."_

_No one laughed. They didn't get the joke. Pride shuffled awkwardly. "You are a dreamer." He said accusingly to Fenris, "Yet…?" He gestured to his current state of awareness._

"_None of your concern, Foul thing. Be gone!"  
"You are brave." Pride chuckled, "I smell magic on your skin. You would make a delightful-"_

"_Finish your words. I will strike your body to the void."_

_He raised the melted skin above his eye, "Will you?"_

"_I will." Fenris snarled._

"_So… these are your mages, then, wolf pup?"_

_Fenris felt a moment of uncertainty, then he snarled, "They are mine to protect."_

"_Then protect them well, and if you fail, you may call upon Pride for assistance, for I owe this Hawke a large debt."_

_Fenris blanched, glancing at Li'rae for half a moment, "You-"_

"_Worry over the enemies you have, small wolf." The Pride demon said. "You need not invent another in me." He lumbered off, and disappeared into the whirling smoke which surrounded them._

_Rae held up her hands, "Lady troubles. I helped him with lady troubles. That's all."_

"_Demons breed?"_

"_Not sure if I'd call it that ,but I'm not at all familiar with the process." She said._

"_So he owes you for womanly advice?"_

"_You ever seen a female Pride demon? They look just like the males with the melty skin, and dragon faces, but they're bigger. I negotiated a 'contract of romantic intent' between them. It was… terrifying, awkward and flattering all at once."_

_He tried to laugh, but the sound was strangled, "I must say." He paused for the right wording, "If you do such a thing again, without me present… you will not be glad."_

"_I wasn't glad to do it alone the first time. It wouldn't wait, however."_

_He sighed, sheathing his blade, as he crossed the distance between them. He took her face in his hands, "I cannot say how much you mean to me. Please, no more." He smiled, remembering the words her father had spoken over her, "I will snatch you from the jowls of a demon if I have to, but there will be hell to pay if it is your fault, you silly girl." She closed her eyes, smiling, "Do not forget it."_

"_I won't." She promised, leaning into him, breaking his contact with her face, and pressing against his chest._

_He coughed, acutely aware that his cheeks were flushed, and she had imagined his armor away, in favor of a light, soft tunic, and similar pants to those he'd worn at the beach, nearly a month ago. Memories of that night had teased his mind both waking and sleeping for every day in the interim. Fenris patted her shoulder in what he hoped would be interpreted as an affectionate manner._

_She sighed, "Where are you?"_

"_On the road." He said, knowing that she asked of the waking world, because she'd asked that question nearly every night since he'd made his promise._

"_Already?" She asked, smiling into his shoulder, making him feel strangely warm._

"_Yes. My courier sold me out to a magister and I was forced to flee one week earlier than I had planned." He said._

_She gasped, hands fisting in the cloth of his shirt. "Did you pay him for silence?"_

"_Not well enough, apparently. The Magister paid better. No surprise. I took the coin from his body and moved on a sovereign richer."_

_She pursed her lips, "I hope it hurt."_

"_I wouldn't know, but the look on his face was… unpleasant."_

_Fenris hummed his assent relaxing slightly, "And you?"_

"_Atheneril is… being difficult. I reminded her that our year was almost up, and she tried to make up some excuse to hold us. I almost reminded her violently, of all the coin I'd paid into her coffers, and that it was nearly thrice the amount I owed her, instead I walked away. I didn't go to work tonight."_

"_If you are in danger, I-"_

"_Don't worry about me, I assure you I can take care of Atheneril."_

_He nodded, "Yes, you can. Forgive me."_

"_Certainly." She said, unconsciously adopting the short phrasing he preferred._

"_Sister?"_

_Fenris was startled, he had forgotten the little mage. "I'm waking up."_

"_Right. See you in the waking world-" She stopped and cursed, "Sorry Fenris, what-" Then, more suddenly than before, she was gone, his arms hung empty in the air. The fade was much too quiet._

"_Vishante kaffur!" He growled. Something was wrong. No one interrupted Li'rae's sleep. She had never- perhaps it were simply her mother? More likely it was Atheneril's people come to collect in blood what they had been unable to take in labor. "Venhedis malum fasta vass Vishante kaffue!" He began to pace. His eyes conjuring half thought out images of a broken, bloody Hawke, laying throat slit in a filthy hovel-_

"_No! Hawke can take care of herself. She is strong. She-" He fell silent for a moment, feeling eyes on him. He turned about as his skin began to crawl, "Pride." He snarled._

"_Where is the mage?" He asked, voice a different hue. This demon began to circle Fenris, "Your mages? Where are they?"_

"_They wake." He said, proud of himself that his voice was so level._

"_Oh? Why do you not go to them? I sense anxiety in you. Perhaps… I could help you."_

_Fenris' ears twitched, "No." He said, envisioning his greatsword in his palms. It did not take much._

"_And why not? You surely know that Pride is powerful?"_

"_You…" He knew that this demon was something of a stranger to Hawke. This demon was not the Pride she had helped. It was a great threat. "I am no mage. Trouble someone else."_

"_Not a mage? I can practically taste your power, my fine young elf. Do you not wish for the strength to ward off your Master?" Though it was phrased as a question, it was not one. The words arched like lightening, trapping him in the folds of its promises. "I could give it to you. Together we would be unstoppable."_

"_You are a Demon of Pride. One such as myself knows never to be distracted by your promises. You will lie, deceive, and destroy before ever giving what you promise. You would posses my body and I would never be free."_

"_What is freedom when you bear the chains of your past life with every step? What is freedom when… when your chains are burned into your skin."_

_The cruelty of using such a memory made fury course through his veins, "I am not a mage, and I will not give into you, beast!"_

"_Mmm, I do love a challenge." It said, warping from this terrible form into one which conjured a paralyzing fear which melted the fiber of Fenris' courage. "Come, here my little wolf." Danarius' voice raked over Fenris like ice crystals. His feet tried to obey, knowing what a horrid punishment the man could bring… but something made him stop._

"_You are not Danarius. You are a demon."_

"_Actually, pet, the demon and I have a strong working relationship. She has agreed to bring you home in return for a-"_

_Fenris snarled, "I will not return. I am not a slave!"_

"_Oh, but you are, pet. You are." He raised his staff, intent on destroying Fenris' will._

_Fenris conjured a shield which absorbed the mana, then sent the thing tumbling at him, before willing himself away. Far away. Whether it were true that Danarius and that specific pride demon were partnered, the creature was powerful, and the face, voice of his master could send shocks of vulnerability through Fenris easily more potent than any other sort of torment. Fenris tumbled headlong into a group of desire demons, who tried to entice him, grope him, anything to turn his head. He cut them down. Running until he awoke, panting, terrified. _

…

_. ._

…

He shot up and checked his surroundings. Alone. Road, near a wooded area. The road to Kirkwall.

He felt a strange sort of pull toward the city. It was terrible. He had to go there. The thought that Danarius was luring him there occurred more than once, however, it made no difference. Danarius' presence was inconsequential, even after he had gone through all that effort to get the man's attention focused there, that he might finally confront his former master. There was something else. That urgent feeling from before. He had to get there soon. Something was… in danger- someone? Blast, he could not remember. He only knew that it was true. He was, for the first time not afraid that some feeling from a dream was influencing him. The imperative was strange, not magical.

He knew that though the moon was still high, he had to move. Had to push through the journey in less time than he thought possible. "Rae. Li'rae." The name felt alien and close on his tongue. He had to help Li'rae. The name was gone as soon as he had remembered it, just the faint image of a face, a dear one in danger. He had never had an opportunity to protect a dear one. Likely Danarius would kill her. Well, it was likely he would try to kill her. Who she was, he couldn't recall. Probably the mage from his dreams seducing him with some combination of blood magic and desire. If that were so, he would kill her. If not, he would not fail her for want of swifter feet.


	13. Chapter 13 A Waking Dreamer

He had been running for days, stopping only for the briefest time his body would allow. Nearly three weeks of restless dreaming, and absent allies made him furious. Danarius was haunting him. Fear drove and pulled him forward. He reached Kirkwall much sooner than he had expected, but he had little concept of how to contact her.

He hid himself in Darktown, the underbelly of the city, cringing at the odor, and the hopelessness of the refugees stranded there. Mumbled whisperings of Qunari and the Coterie took up lives of their own. He had no time for pity, however, and thus kept away from them.

The third day he was in Kirkwall, haunted as he was by his dreaming, he pushed on, asking after Anso. No last name, he didn't know it, til he finally found someone likely, "Have you met a dwarf called Anso?" He asked a poisoner, a scrawny elf who called himself Tomwise.

"Yeah, smuggler. Terrified of all things topside, but too good for Darktown."

"Sounds like the same man. Do you know how I could contact him?"

"Hanged man."

"He- is dead? Venhedis!" He growled angrily, beginning to pace.

"No, no, it's a pub in Lowtown. That's the place to go for people who… care less about the letter of the law than profits. Tell 'em I sent you. Should keep the vultures off you."

Fenris growled, "If they try to attack me, they will die. I will not cry any name for protection."

The smaller elf held up his hands, "Just an offer, my friend. Hope you find who you're looking for."

Fenris thought for a moment about telling the small man that they were not friends, but it didn't seem to matter. He began to walk away before the elf snapped his fingers, "Got it, he's a merchant, right? Merchant's guild in Hightown. That is, if he's not at the Hanged man."

"Benefaris." Fenris said, then, remembering the common tongue, "Thank you."

…

Fenris slunk into the bar with trepidation. "Sour ale, vomit and the smell of desperation." He muttered, as he stepped up to the bar tender, a man with short blond hair and grey eyes, human. "Hello, I… am looking for someone. A dwarf, I was told he might frequent this place." _Though I have no idea why he or anyone else would._

"Varric! Eh, Varric, you've got a visitor." He called in the direction of the rooms, "Go look in the first room up the stairs, he's usually in there telling his stories to anyone who'll listen."

"Varric is not the dwarf I wish to speak with." Fenris said, picking the name out of the air and giving it a mental flick. "No. Anso."

"Eh? Don't know no other dwarves by name, serrah. Sorry." He seemed sincere. Fenris' shoulders slumped, though not noticeably enough for the man.

"Thank you for your efforts." He said, reaching for his coin.

"Eh? Want a pint? Three coppers."

"I- was going to pay you for-"

"For what? I'm a bar tender, ser, I sell drinks, not names. Besides, I didn't help you."

Fenris pursed his lips, "You do not require coin?"

"Not for that. Have a pint and you can pay for that."

"Perhaps when my business is complete, I will return. Thank you."

"No problem." He said, smiling.

…

Hightown was two hours walk from Lowtown, he passed through the merchant's district, and then into a small section of town obviously reserved for dwarves. Statues of paragons, which all looked oddly alike, though they supposedly depicted different caricatures, looked down upon their small hairy charges with something like fury and constipation etched into each and every brow. Fenris stuck to the edges, spying out his contact nearby. Fenris closed the distance quickly, and laid a palm on the sweaty man's shoulder. He squeeked, whirling around in a comical fashion. "Who're- Oh. Fenris. I was expecting a note-"

"My courier made a poor decision. I was forced to bring my request in person."

"Poor career choice eh? He still alive?"

Fenris smirked, "If he is, he lives without a functional heart. I should think the Templars might wish to speak with him."

The dwarf laughed nervously, "Joke, right?"

"Yes. Now, on to business."

"Of course… you… have the coin? I don't want to get caught without the coin if they turn out to be… you know… the sort to make poor career moves."

Fenris's lips quirked, "You said these ones were talented."

"Yeah, Hawke and her ilk, yeah, they're good. Reputation for getting things done fast and right… but they do work for A-t-h-e-n-e-r-i-"

"Am I to wait all day whilst you spell out a name I care nothing for?"

"Er, no. Sorry."

"Contact them with my offer. Tell them I want the contents of the brigand's-"

"Leave the cover story to me, if there's any information on your… former… you know, Hawke will bring it to me, and I'll forward it to you. Easy breezy… right?"

"Unless you betray me, it would seem so." Fenris said, looking down at the dwarf with eyes that made him want to hide back into the embrace of the Stone.

"I-I-"

"Silence. You may change yourself later, Anso. I will do you no harm."  
"Yeah, unless I get stupid and try and sell you out."

"We understand eachother." Fenris said, not wearing the smile he felt.

"Good… Heh heh." He rubbed his neck, "OK, I'm going to see my contact now. It should be done tonight."

"Then I shall see you on the morrow." He said with as much cheer as he possessed, then slunk out of hightown, to sit and wait for the Hawke who would help him lure his master's pets, and… possibly, he had heard whispers, possibly find a link to his own past. He could hope.

…

Dark approached on swift legs, with a slim, tattooed, white haired elf following on its heels. Fenris haunted the area around the Alienage cloaked in shadows and eagerness. Rumors. Rumors like shades and silence tugged at his mind, trying to stir in him something… something that had lived before Danarius ruined him. No matter what he heard, thought, wondered, he was still the small wolf who had lunged at the throat of his master, before fleeing like a cur. Bitterness welled up inside of him as the Magister's taunts, voiceless though they were, haunted him. Fear attacked him sometime shortly after sunset so in retaliation, he left his loathsome perch to gut the street thugs who dared show their presence nearby. When he had emptied the streets nearby, Fenris allowed himself a moment in which to catch his breath.

In that moment he realized three things; first, he had been wounded by a carelessly poisoned arrow. He extracted the thing and took a health potion, before moving on. Second, the last dozen foes he had felled had the look of slavers. He glanced back toward the elvhen quarter of the city, ears twitching at what he heard, which brought him to the third thing. Sounds of battle. Hawke must have been ambushed. His mind showed him the face of the cad he'd entrusted the messages to. The fool had given more than his specified words to the mage and the hunter. "Venhedis!" He growled. The hunters would kill Hawke, he would kill the rest, and he would be left with a weary form with which to challenge Danarius. "Fasta Vass en malum eun-" He stopped speaking, sighting a small group of slave hunters. He snarled, raised his sword, and cleaved through them, all but one, in one stroke, then he slammed his fist through the last one's chest plate, and sent him stumbling down the stairs to mumble at his compatriot, as the fighting stopped down stairs.

Fenris stepped down, over the body casually, looking over the scene. A tall broad male stared at him, grinning, beside him two women frowned, at the last remaining slaver. "Your men are dead. Your trap has failed, I suggest you return to your master." He said, glancing over the dead. To the west slumped in a corner with burns covering his body, was a mage. Fenris smiled grimly, as his eyes returned to the three, one of which, he assumed, was Hawke.

Of course, he was correct. Hawke stared at him, a roughly exciting gaze which raked over his skin like fire. She lifted her eyebrows, and small smile found her lips. She couldn't help the excitement she felt. He was here! Fenris, she would have known him anywhere, no matter what he looked like. She would have recognized the olive skin, the hair which fell about his face shaggily, almost hiding his intensely piercing gaze from view. She would have definitely recognized that voice. Her breath danced as her heart tittered. Then, as she would have spoken her excited greeting, reality intruded in the form of an arrogant slaver. Fenris stepped past the mercenary, the man grabbed the elf's shoulder, "You aren't going anywhere, Slave!"

Hatred lit his body, causing that raging fire to course over him, he lifted the man with one hand, and with the other, he reached deep into the fool's chest, lyrium making the gesture effortless, and ripped the still beating heart from his body. "I am not a slave!" he roared. With that, the burning metal cooled, and darkness returned. "I..." He hesitated, "I apologize. When I asked Anso to provide the contract, I had no idea they" He gestured at the corpses which seemed to litter the alienage floors like fallen leaves in the fall, only… squishy and heavily armed, "would be so numerous."

"Or that it would be me?" The blonde woman asked. Fenris frowned at her for both the words which made no sense and the fact that her face, breath taking even in the relative gloom, lit as she asked the question.

He frowned, "No, I know you by reputation. I believed your skill to be adequate to handle a few slavers."

She frowned, "Slavers…" Hurt. She began to recognize that he did not recognize her.

"Yes, ah, I must apologize for my lack of manners; my name was Fenris. I was the one who hired Anso to contract you for the job." The introduction killed any doubt she may have had that he did not remember their time together. Her heart squeezed in her chest, blushing cheeks paled. Her eyes dropped to the ground, weighed by the force of her disappointment.

Carver, recognizing that she had dropped the proverbial reigns, stepped forward, "You almost got us killed." He snapped, shoving his finger at Fenris, who, taking it in stride, promptly replied as follows.

"A fact which I have apologized for. Had I known, I would have been here sooner." The man seemed mollified, and stepped back behind the blonde woman, who smiled after a moment of consideration, encouraging Fenris to continue. "These men were imperial bounty hunters, seeking to recover a magister's 'lost property', namely myself. They thought to… lure me into the open." He gestured at the man he had killed just now, then to the mage. "Crude though their methods were, I had to face them… and I could not do so alone."

"Well, then, thank your lucky stars that Anso chose wisely." The man said.

"I shall." Fenris nodded. "And I thank you."

"Why… didn't you send word directly to us?" The dark haired woman asked. Hawke looked at Bethy, who, though she had recognized their dream friend, had not realized that there was a problem.

"I am not acquainted with you, and had no way of knowing where to find you. In any case, they are dead, and you are victorious."

"The markings… your hair." Hawke said, "Are the markings the reason your former master is attacking you?" She asked this to help her sister come to the same conclusion she had, and for Carver's benefit.

Fenris smiled, chuckling, "Yes, I imagine I must look strange to you?"

Hawke, unable to resist, looked him over, "Mmm, strange can be good." She smiled seductively, remembering the attraction she felt, allowing it to warm her waking body.

"I… eh." He coughed, as memories flickered behind his eyes, hazy dreamy memories, which itched at his brain, making him wonder what was wrong with himself, that even as a beautiful woman flirted with him, he could not simply entertain the moment. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome." She said, moving forward. Her gait was graceful, hips swaying, engineered to distract. She made him feel that the cool night was much too warm.

"If I may ask… the chest? Was it empty?"

"Yes. How did you know?" The male asked, his voice thick with irritation. Fenris sensed that this was the male's natural state.

"Dissapointment has been my companion for many years. I expected it."

"Yet you still sent us in to get it?"

"It supposedly held… something that is of great value to me. Would have been of great value. Alas it was not so. I… apologize for the deception. I feel now that I should have tried harder to contact you directly."

"S'OK." The younger dark haired woman said, "Where've you been?" She asked quietly.

He cocked his head, "I… feel as though I am at a disadvantage. You know my name, but…"

"You know us, Fenris. I'm Bethany, that's Carver, and… well, she hardly needs an introduction."

Fenris was confused, "I apologize, have we met?"

Bethany opened her mouth, but Hawke stepped before her, "Dreamer, sister."

The dark haired girl frowned, "He's here."

"He was being hunted." She said simply, nodding to the bemused elf.

"Still." Bethany pouted, "I don't think that's all there is to it."

Again, louder, Fenris asked, "Should I know you?"

"Yes, and no. I'll explain at another time. For now, it is good to see you. If there is anything more we can do for you, you need only ask."

He stepped back, "I- have met few in my travels who have desired more than personal gain. Your… assistance and understanding are… admirable. I humbly request one more thing. My master. I received word that he was a part of this party, coming to reclaim me, he awaits in Hightown. I would… please, help me kill him."

"A magister, blood mage, of course, and a slaver?" Fenris nodded in response to her seeming question, "Of course we'll help you."

He grinned, "I worried that you would die to the slavers, that you would turn on me. I apologize. I will give you all the coin I possess."

"Why don't we talk about repayment another time? I assume your former Master will not be keen to wait on us?"

"Not keen at all." He said, smiling slightly, "I believe we can kill him. If we do, I will owe you a deep debt of gratitude." He turned and walked away. It was time to face the dread. Time to cut the throat of the death of his past.

Once he was out of earshot, Fenris said to himself, "Tonight I will kill my Master, and earn my freedom. Would that I had thought of it before." Whispers of the Fog Warriors tugged at his mind. He wiped the blood from his face, and sword as he waited for the Hawke band, and plotted his master's demise.


	14. Chapter 14 An echo upon still waters

Ibi plus quam in hac terra uel in vidi consenuerunt.= _There more things on this earth and in the fade than you or I have seen. – Latin (for my purposes, Arcanum)_

His savage words on mages tugged at the subconscious pain caused by Ferelden's unbridled fear of magic. Attacking her breast and striking at her core. "It never ends." The sentiment struck at the part of her that coiled in anger when the chantry swore that her gift was a curse. It echoed, and she found herself wanting to echo the sentiment, turning it against him.

But she couldn't. The unhidden weariness reminded her of clear skies and beautiful fancies. Splashing in the surf, his warm lips grazing her neck like whispers, sweet whispers that warmed her core.

At first, when she had seen him stepping down the stairs of the alienage, she hadn't recognized him. The haunted eyes, dark from lack of sleep. Gaunt cheeks, firm words, accented by a hint of the speech patterns of Arcanum. His skin, such a warm brown color, emblazoned with lyrium, which, when activated, she knew not how, would liquefy and allow him to step half way into the fade. She remembered his words on his tattoos, seemingly so harsh and painful, and understood why.

"It never ends. I escaped a land of dark magic only to have it haunt me at every turn." He said, "It is a chain, burned into my flesh and my soul. And now, I find myself indebted to even more mages."

"Sister?" Bethany whispered as his harsh eyes fell upon her.

"It's alright Bethy. I'll take care of you." The reassurance was nearly silent, but as Fenris heard it, bells went off in his head. He stepped back as Hawke stepped forward, "You realize of course, that we mages would have helped you kill your master without hesitation?"

"I'm not ignorant that magic has it's uses, and there are indubitably some mages with good intentions."

Hawk feigned a theatrical whisper, "That's us Bethy."

Fenris' lips twitch into a smile, but he erased it before it could take more permanent residence. Hawke grinned in response. "But… the road to evil has been paved many times with the blood of well intentioned abominations."

"Oh, that's a new one, sister!" Carver chuckled.

"Hush Carver." Bethany whispered.

"He's not wrong." Hawke said quietly. "When a mage falls to the lure of a demon's call, all the training, all the love and all the good intentions in Thedas are worthless."

"I know, sister." Bethany said. "But-"

"Bethy, it won't help right now."

"Why is he here then? Why did he search us out? We weren't exactly advertising our presence-"

"Your sister's name is on many lips." Fenris said quietly, uncertain of what was going on.

"Hawke?" Carver asked. The elf nodded, "Well isn't that grand? Born to the same father yet still, you're the only one called by our family name."

"Carver, you know why."

"Bullshit. It's all bullshit." He growled.

"Carver you're an arse." Hawke smirked, "I'm the head of the family now that father's… gone."

"Yeah, and I'm the stunted growth by your side and two steps back, wishing I could get out of your big fat shadow."

She sighed, "What kind of growth? Are you a fungus or a boil?"

"Shut up." He said, "The only reason I'm still here is because of that big ass sword the elf has. I don't want that mage hater touching my sisters."

"Affection? I'm shocked! Beth, put it on the calendar, I think this is the first time he's said he loved us, since-"

"I never said that. I said I- oh never mind." He began to sulk mightily.

"Yes." Fenris said, shifting uncomfortably, "Well, I… thank you. I did not find Danarius, but I do still owe you for your efforts on my behalf."

"Fenris-"

"Sister, we need the coin."

"Honestly, brother, we looted three sovereigns out of the manor, I think that's payment enough." She spoke to both of them, looking between them.

"No. I owe you a debt, here is all the coin I possess, as Anso promised." He passed two gold into her hands not allowing her to protest. "And… if you should need help with anything, I would gladly lend you my sword."

Carver snickered.

"I'd kill your brother for the asking." Fenris joked lightly.

Carver was not amused.

"So why does the old shackle and irons want you back anyway, your master must want something more than a runaway slave." Carver asked nonchalantly, remembering being vaguely impressed that an elf could wield a broadsword let alone with any skill.

"He doesn't want me at all, just the markings in my skin." Fenris snapped, "They are lyrium, burned into my flesh to enhance my physical strength and power. Now, Danarius wishes his precious investment returned, even if he must rip it from my corpse." Bethany shifted uncomfortably as he stared at her, not truly seeing her.

Hawke grinned, "That would be a waste of an incredibly handsome elf."

Fenris chuckled, coughed and smiled, looking awkwardly away from her. "I- you flatter me."

"Mmm, you deserve it." She flirted unabashed, "Gorgeous eyes, strong-"

"Sister, I swear to the holy Maker, I will kill him. Do not talk about that near- no, just don't talk about it-"

"One word Carver? Peaches."

He blushed horribly, "That was different."

"Sure sure." She joked amicably, "I'm terrible at flirting anyway." She shrugged.

Fenris smiled slightly, "Perhaps you are a terrible flirt, but you are not bad at the act it's self."

Hawke grinned, "Will you join us? I mean, I'm investing in an expedition, and I'll need help. Would you like to be a part of it?"

He almost replied with a coy comment, but the courage to do so died in his throat, so he said, "I will. If you are ever in need of assistance, I will be here. If Danarius wishes his mansion back, he is free to attempt to reclaim it." Grimly, he looked up at the property. "I would… welcome the chance to speak with you. Please, come see me when you have a spare moment." He almost smiled.

"Perhaps now?"

"I swear elf, if you touch my sister, I'll cut it off."

Fenris smirked at Carver, "Peaches… who was Peaches, Hawke? Perhaps I can tell the story to a chatty drunk?"

He nearly choked.

"Perhaps I could send word to her father?"

Carver glowered darkly. "Right. Blackmail. Still, he's in Ferelden, and we're here."

"If you ever get within four feet of me I will pretend to be worried."

Hawke sighed, "I wish I hadn't realized what you were talking about. I wish I would have just tuned you out, Arvie…"

"Sister!" He hissed.

"Am I embarrassing you in front of your new friend? So sorry."

Carver heaved a dramatic sigh, "Alright. C'mon. It's almost sunrise. Beth, we should get home."

"You're leaving me alone with him? Gasp, Carver, I am surprised at you."

"Yeah, you and your attitude could cull a brothel."

"Ha." Hawke waved at her siblings as they walked away.

After a moment, Fenris gestured to the door, "I have nothing in the way of refreshments."

"I didn't expect you to, Fenris."

"Hmm, I… get the feeling that you are more than you appear."

"Oh, but isn't everyone?"

"I have not offered my blade to 'everyone'. I wish to know something more about you."

"Right. Ask away."

"You are an apostate?"

"Spot on. Did the staff tip you off?"

He nodded, choosing to either ignore the comment, or not noticing the joke in her tone. "You have no truck with demons?"

"Correct again. Most of them creep me out. Some are just irritating, and a select few are like suitors who feign ignorance that you have no interest in them."

"I have no point of reference for that comparison."

"Ah, yeah, sorry."

"No apology is necessary." He said, beckoning to her to come inside with him. He kicked a few bodies, which got in his way, before reaching the stairs. Hawke watched the satisfaction die on his face before going into the main room. He bent over the fireplace trying to coax something out of the ashen pit, before sighing and giving up. He went and pulled a chair at the table in the room out, gesturing for Hawke to take her seat, and then he took one beside her at the table's head. "What sort of mage are you?" He asked abruptly.

Hawke looked at her fingers, splaying them and turning them over, before looking back at him. He did not appear hostile. "The free kind."

"No one is free. Everyone is chained to something, fear, law, brutality, the past, the future, husband, child, family. The only difference-"

"Is that I forge my bonds, and tie myself to whom and what I choose. I will not submit my mind to Templar, to Demon, to Man. I am my father's daughter, and will die as he did, free, and surrounded by those I love."

"Your declarations are strange. It's almost as if you believe them."

She smiled softly, eyes crinkling in the corners, "Oh, I believe them. I wouldn't lie to you, Fenris."

"No?"

"Not on purpose." She said, "Sometimes I am misinformed, and if, in such a state, I pass you false information, I would feel terrible, and do everything in my power to correct my mistake."

He leaned back, "I feel… oddly at ease. You are both the reason for that and the disquiet it causes me."

"Why? Do you feel like you remember me from somewhere?"

"Yes." He said, "Although I have never been to this part of the world."

"Hmm, that's so strange. I've been in Ferelden and here, so… no help from me."

"Perhaps…" His eyes shut and his face crinkled as he struggled to drag forth a certain thought, "Perhaps a family member serves in the Imperium?" He asked, grasping at straws.

"Not to my knowledge. Father hates Tevinter. He always said, 'We may be mages, but no Hawke will ever be a tyrant.' I… think he may have lived there for a while, in his youth. Not as a magister, as a slave." She amended quickly as she saw his face go from easy to panicked.

"He and mother didn't meet until he was… oh… thirty year old, or something, she was much younger, but…" Hawke smiled, "To this day, I've never seen two people more devoted to each other." She looked up at him through her eyelashes, "He died recently… just before the blight."

Fenris frowned, "Your father was an escaped slave?"

"Yes, he ran from the Imperium to the Kirkwall circle, but… found it no better. The abusers simply wielded a different sort of power, and blood, to them, was cheaper. So he escaped."

"An apostate." Fenris' lip curled, "You come from a family of illegal mages."

"And your skin sings, burns and boils because of magic."

He frowned harder, "Sings?"

"The lyrium sings like a good blade. A high, ringing note which makes the air around you tingle… pleasantly." She blushed a little at the admission. "It's… terrible, and beautiful."

"I do not know… it has only ever caused me pain."

"And kept you alive. Kept you lucid when you should have been unconscious, kept you moving when you would have fallen. When was the last time you slept?" She asked, "You look like it's been many days."

"It has." He replied quietly. "I… there was something…" He sighed, "I do not know if I can entrust this to you." He said, referring to the urgency and fear for someone…

"If you will, I'll make you a whole batch of cookies." She said, hinting at their shared dreamtime.

He blinked, mouth watering, "You… secrets for cookies?"

"Certainly, if you'll promise to share with me, I'll even teach you to make them."

His mouth opened, then he bit his lip, reluctant, yet… he could not resist the pastries, "I have…" He took a deep breath, "I accept the offer. Secrets for cookies. I have been dreaming. At first the dreams were terrible, dark and full of pain. Memories from my first moments of lucidity after these markings were inflicted upon me. Then… I met some mages in the fade. I do not… I can not remember… much. Three weeks ago, they were abruptly wakened, but since then, every night I sleep, I have not found them, instead being attacked by hordes of demons, and the echoes of my Master in the Fade."

"They were wakened abruptly?"

"Yes, I… this is the reason for my haste. I… Hardly remember, but they were allies, and I believe that they may be in danger."

Her eyes were round as saucers, when she asked, "You came all the way here for a couple mages?"

"I… did. Do not make light. They were dear to me."

Hawke blushed prettily, "Fenris, what were their names?"

He replied with a shrug, "I remember flashes of smiles, battles and skin. Things are more clear while I dream, but when I wake, the memories are gone."

Hawke hummed for a moment, "I've been having dreams like that for over a year now, myself."

He looked at her suspiciously, "Really?"

"Mmhm. You'll laugh…"

"I might."

"Pretty beaches, swirling storms, a… dark haired elvhen man comes to see me, well, he did… for a while. My dreams have been… fitful of late."

"You mock me."

"Never, serrah." She said, "I have been harried, of late, by my former employer. She's trying to extort more work from me. Attacks just as I've fallen to sleep. I'm starting to wear."

"Perhaps you should fight her."

"Would that I could. Though… this afternoon she sent me a letter confessing, and apologizing. Your job with Anso was a sort of peace offering, I think."

He didn't respond, instead glancing back at the hearth wistfully, as if lost in his own mind. Hawke stood softly, and skipped over. She pulled the ashes out, setting them in a bucket, then she placed a broken table leg into the pit along with a few other bits of flammables, and lit it with a spark from her fingers, careful to hide it behind her body. "Magic." He said distastefully.

"Hmm, Should have known you'd feel it. The lyrium. I was trying to be discreet, so you wouldn't be uncomfortable."

"Certainly I feel it. I spent an entire lifetime being tormented by mages and their foul powers, how could I miss that-"

"Sorry, Fenris. You look cold."

He paused, "I am."

"Seheron is much warmer this time of year, no?"

"How did you know I come from Seheron?"

She gulped, "Lucky guess."

"Liar." He said simply. "You are a poor liar. This must be why you do not make a habit of it."

She flushed, "I'm sorry, you- I'm sorry. OK, I promised I wouldn't lie… but you won't believe me."

"Ibi plus quam in hac terra uel in vidi consenuerunt." Fenris said, his voice flush with emotion as he quoted in his native tongue, "So perhaps you will humor me, by allowing me the decision to believe you or not?"

She frowned, "Is it so simple?"

"Perhaps not. I am willing to compromise, however. I swear that unless you confess to a deal with a Demon, I will not harm you, and I will try to find you credible."

"Well, sounds fair enough. Alright. My name is Li'rae Hawke, and I along with my sister, Bethy, have been meeting you in the Fade nightly for the past… nearly two years. For the last few months you and I have been…" She smiled, "Close. And a few weeks ago, you promised me protection, and swore you'd come to me in two moths time. After that-"

He held up a hand, glowering, "You mock me."

"I do not. Why would I?"

He pursed his lips, "You are a mage."

"But not a Magister. Just as you wield a blade, but you are not a raider or a thug."

"No Hawke will ever be a tyrant?" He repeated the words with an acrid turn of his voice, "Certainly not." Sarcasm dripped from his words.

"You have accused me of mocking you, and yet you twist my words and scorn me." She observed.

"You were lying!"

She stood up, "I told you that you would not believe me."

He winced, "Hawke-"

"Another time, Fenris." She said, scooting the chair away from her legs, and moving toward the exit quickly. Panicking, Fenris grabbed her arm She regarded him coldly, closing off the warmth from her olive colored eyes.

"Hawke, don't go yet." He cursed himself as the words tumbled from his lips, "I don't want you to go… yet."

She frowned, "My father was a good man. I will not allow you, or anyone else to use him to hurt me."

"I apologize. I have deeply offended you, and I-" He noticed her hand in his, and dropped it, stepping away carefully, "I humbly ask your forgiveness. Please."

She glared at him, then sighed. "Fenris…" His name on her lips sounded so much sweeter than he knew it to be. He wanted to brush away the tickle in his throat, and the uneasy knots in his gut, which did not stem from hunger or pain. She wasn't looking at him. He wanted her to look at him.

"Yes?"

"No. I have to go. I'll see you later."

"You will?" His voice was a little too eager. If she knew how he desired her presence, curse him for a fool, he had already let her know, since she knew… she would use that against him. Mages were all the same.

"Yeah." Her voice was soft, choked. "Please, go to sleep in a bit."

His eye twitched, "You persist in this charade?"

She turned to him fully, eyes hard. Advanced on him, his reflexes pushed him back, submissively. She pushed him bodily into the wall, and just when he expected to be physically punished, her so soft lips brushed his jaw. "I am nothing," She muttered into his ear, warm breath sending erotic shocks through his body, as it tickled him, "If not persistent."

His mind sat dumb, instincts in a frenzy, telling him to do everything, yet he couldn't move. Her hands pressed against him were soft, molded against his armor. He knew he could overpower her, but he could not bring himself to move. Her left hand moved to his neck molding against him, then up roughly through his hair. He closed his eyes, allowing the raw pleasure to warm him as nothing had been able to for weeks. "I see." He murmured through sluggish lips.

She smiled, brushing her cheek against his, then she pulled away, stepping backward. He heard her leave. Did not open his eyes for nearly half an hour. He swallowed roughly, as he did. "You are lucky she is not a demon." He chided himself quietly, "She could have had your soul for the asking, and you'd have relished giving it to her. Once a slave…" He muttered, his voice growing more and more harsh. "My chains are burned into my skin…"

…

_So, guys, how's it going? I hope y'all enjoyed the chapter, those who've reviewed are saying they do. :D I love the feedback. If you guys want to see something particular, review, I reply to all of them- I think. So sorry if I missed anyone. Hmm, so question, for anyone who wants to review but can't think of anything to say, what was your favorite mission, line, or character trait in act I of DAII?_

_Thanks for your thoughts._

_E.D._


	15. Chapter 15 Promise you'll Remember

maledictus feminam- Cursed female

_This has been an oddly difficult chapter to write for no particular reason. It just didn't want to come out the way I wanted it to, so… Sigh. I'm tired. I want to get this out to you guys, so… I'm sorry if you don't like it. I might revise later if I figure out what's the matter, or if you guys let me know what you think. Maybe nothing's wrong and I'm just stressing because work sucked tonight. I don't know. Let me know what you think. _

…

Fenris sat against the wall, head in hands, remembering for hours. Replaying _that_ moment over and again. He was confused. He'd just met her. She couldn't be his mage, not possible. _Soft hands gripped his neck, hot breath, his chest was constricted, couldn't breathe, her lips against his throat… _He coughed for the hundredth time, wishing the feeling would ease so that he could return to hating mages. _'Go to bed soon…" _A request. She wanted him rested. She wanted him sane… perhaps? He couldn't get his mind straight.

"That woman." He cursed, "I would have been better off- I would… I'm tired. I should sleep. Feel better, more focused in the morning. Yes. Sleep deprivation. That was why his reaction was so very strong. Of course…

He went and claimed bedding for himself, setting it in the room with the lit hearth. He'd find an actual frame for it on the morrow. Tonight it felt like a blessing from the Maker's hand to have something beneath and around him. He drowsed for a bit, idle fantasies winding through his mind that she had told him the truth. She was his dream mage. Flashes of skin, touches, kisses. He coughed again, rolling over, away from the fire. "Sleep." He murmured, even as his eyelids drooped, and his stomach growled piteously.

"Food tomorrow, even if I have to steal it." He grumbled, "That's better, less bare skin and more bread, pies, meat…"

Her eyes were darker than his. Her skin much lighter. Her hair-

"Maledictus feminam." He grunted, clearing his mind.

…

. .

…

_Strange lucidity clung to him this night. The Fade was quiet. That simply meant bigger monsters sought him. He sat and constructed his own reality. He felt that he needed something to cling to in case of attack. He briefly remembered Hawk today. He'd found her, in spite of himself. She'd boggled his waking mind. Now, however, it was easy to accept the string of seeming coincidences._

_In any case, he was torn. He wanted security, Danarius was surely still seeking him. But, on the other hand, he wanted something inviting for her, when she joined him._

_He settled for a room with a broad doorway, and a roaring fire. He closed his eyes as relaxation took him. "Well, look who's getting all comfy cozy."_

_Fenris peeked out at her, "Well…" Her attire stopped him. She wore simple blue dress which clung and floated in the right places, her smile was tentative. Eyes sparkling._

"_Believe me now?"_

_He grimaced, stood, and put his arms around her, "If you ever put me through another month of…. That again, I-" His voice trembled, "I will be very angry."_

"_Oh? I haven't seen Angry Fenris?"_

"_No." He said, brushing her cheek with his hand. "I missed you." He wanted to say more, something along the lines of; 'You cannot imagine how the thought of you plagued me!'_

_She smiled, somehow more knowing than he liked, "I'm a dear one?"_

"_Yes." His voice was soft, husky. "Please do not do that again."_

_She put her arms around his waist, he froze. "I won't if I can help it."_

"_Rae…" He murmured, tense, "I…"_

_She lifted her head and teased his neck, "You what?"_

"_Unfair." He grunted, trying to pull away. "This… you-"_

_She grinned, tweaked his nose, and sat down in a large cushioned chair. "Big enough for two…" She offered._

_He shuffled uncomfortably, "No thank you."_

"_Aw, spoil sport." She teased, stretching the couch so that he could sit without touching her. "Now?"_

"_Yes." He sat just a handsbreadth away from her, "So. Cookies?"_

_She chuckled, "I'll bring them to you in the morning."_

"_You promised to teach me to make them."_

"_I will, you're prickly in the waking world, I might just need a reason to visit you."_

_He leaned over impulsively, closing his eyes as their skin met. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her neck, her ears, her cheeks, nose, then lingering on her lips. "You have a reason." He breathed, when he was satisfied that his point had been made. She was a pretty shade of pink. He had no idea what had come over him._

_She hummed, "You might try to rip my heart out if I tried that."_

_He grimaced, "I would not… perhaps I would." He sighed, "This is difficult."_

"_I agree." She said looking at him, with her head in his lap. She smiled, reaching up to touch his soft brown hair. "I was right, by the way."_

"_By your count, you are always right, Rae."_

_She ran her fingers over his cheek, stroked down his neck, "You are just as gorgeous outside the Fade as inside it."_

"_You-" He wanted to return the compliment, but she touched her fingers to his lips. He sighed resignedly._

_She giggled, pulling her hand away. He grinned. "I enjoy our time together, immensely. It has been hellish without you." She got up, nuzzled into his neck. He groaned, "You-"_

"_Quiet, elf." She murmured, kissing, "I always get my way."_

"_Evidently." He said, feeling far too warm, fidgeting beneath her ministrations because of an entirely too evident reaction, which his first instinct was to hide. Mages. Show them a weakness, their first instinct is to exploit it. Coincidentally, it is also their second, third and fourth reaction. Show her that he enjoyed her touch, craved it as he did, and she would use it to destroy what little freedom he'd been able to scrape for himself. He would be kissing her boots willingly, giving his life, every decision, even his liberty to her, and all for a smile. He growled at the thought._

"_Mmm, what's the matter?" She murmured as she ran her tongue over his ear, nibbling at the lobe._

_He blinked repeatedly, moving his legs, not comfortable. He entertained delusions of grasping her shoulders and forcing her bare beneath him, in the scenario, he was the aggressor. He would- He stood up abruptly and walked across the room. "Temptress." He accused, vehemently. Angrily._

_She looked mildly worried about his reaction, "Fenris?"_

"_Tell me why fighting demons suddenly seems like a better idea than sharing a couch with you?"_

_Her brows lifted, eyes rounded. He recognized belatedly that he had hurt her with his sharp words, "I- no, that isn't what I meant. It's only that…" He growled in frustration, because it had been what he'd meant, but he no longer meant it. The sight of her… so vulnerable under his gaze made him want to hold her, take the words back, take the sentiment back, erase it from her mind, from his soul. "You… it's just that…"_

"_I thought you wanted this, Fenris?"_

_He blushed furiously the ire raising its ugly head once more, as the man in him lashed out under duress. He wanted his freedom. He loved it, more than anything else, he would protect it! He snarled, "It has never mattered what I want, Li'rae. I was a slave, I-"_

"_I'm so sorry!" She, crossing to him, taking his hands out of the air, and planting kisses on them. He was so surprised he forgot what he was saying. "I'm so sorry, Fenris, please, I was trying to… to flirt, and I know I'm- I have made a mess of this, haven't I?"_

_For a moment he was dumbfounded. Not… manipulation? Genuine? She was apologizing. Magisters did not apologize. This was his mage. Li'rae Hawke, who fought demons by his side, and held his esteem as no one else ever had. His breath was shaky as he contradicted her, "No! No. I do want it. I'm confused." He hung his head. "No one has… I don't know how to…" His words died and hung in the air. A bald confession of ineptitude and vulnerability. He was bare in a more tangible way than a lack of clothing could convey._

_She hesitated a moment, before touching him again, this time, not insistently, just a whisper of contact, "Fenris?"_

"_Yes." He murmured._

"_Do you like me?"_

_He scoffed, "Of course. I have already told you that I ran all the way from Ostwick to be at your side."_

"_Do me one favor?"_

_He touched her cheek, "If it is within my power."_

"_Try to remember this, come morning."_

"_I suspect I will be confronted with it the moment I wake. Perhaps tormented throughout the day. Your kisses haunt me, Li'rae."_

"_You make it sound like a hardship." She huffed._

"_While you were otherwise occupied, Demons attacked me. Promising power, speed, escape, and reunion. They used your face. Your voice." His own voice cracked as he spoke, "Images of what might be happening to you. I don't- I don't know how I-"_

_She tugged on a lock of his hair, gaining is attention, and a patient sigh. "I'm alright. You need no longer suffer over my fate." She kissed along his jaw, his breath shortened. She smiled into his neck, her lips resting in the hollow between his jaw and his ear. "I am here."_

"_I am aware." He said wryly.  
"Something else?"_

"_Danarius. He is hunting me."_

"_As always."_

"_He is getting disturbingly close."_

"_I won't let him have you. You have my arm, my friend. I will stand at your side and fight him when the time comes." Her words were harsh, not against him. Against Danarius. A fellow Mage- No. A magister of the Imperium. Different from her in every way. She stood before him, an Elvhen slave and promised him that she would fight one of Tevinter's most powerful mages. For a moment he allowed the sentiment to touch him. It was painful. Cloying. His throat was thick with emotions he had no words for._

"_You are kind."_

"_I care for you. My dear one."_

_His chest spasmed oddly, and he felt more warmth. "I feel the same."_

"_Mmm, good."_

…

. .

…

The morning came too swiftly for her. Her brother laughed at her when she groggily opened her eyes, "Fenris, oh-" He mimicked, "You are smitten."

"Peaches." She growled.

"At least she liked me, he hates you and your magic, sister. Don't pine for him too hard."

"Shut up, arse."

"Mother!" He called, watching her with a malevolent grin, "Your daughter is into elves!"

"Maker's breath, I'll tell her!" Li'rae growled, "Peaches, Bannie, Dorcas, Paula- I'll even tell her about Zhora, the twit who hit on me first then-"

"She met a big shiny one last night, and-"

"Carver! Serendipity!"

He gulped, "How did you-"

"I know everything." She said in a growl. "I provide food, cloth and silence at a reasonable premium. My personal affairs are personal, or they all know."

He stuttered for a moment, eyes locked on hers, before mother entered the room, towel in hand, scrubbing her hands, "What did you say?"

"I said-" He mumbled, "I met an elf last night. He reminded me of someone from Lothering. Carried a broadsword like me. At first I thought I'd have to fight him, but then he turned out alright."

"Oh. That's very nice, son."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, Carver, it's lovely." Li'rae said smiling, "Good luck was on your side, one might even say it was serendipity."

He glowered at her, then grumbled something about a job, and beat a hasty retreat.

"Oh, that Carver, always so lucky." Li'rae smiled.

"I'm just glad he made a friend." Mother said. "He could use one. I do hope this elf is a good man, though…"

"I met him too, mother. I liked him well enough. We helped him with a personal problem he was having."

Her eyes narrowed on her, "I do hope you didn't expose your secret,"

"Would I do that?" She asked playfully, "Oh, I promised a friend I'd make cookies to share, are you done with the stove?"

"Mmmhmm, do as you like Li'rae." She said, "I'm going to take your mabari to the market with me. She could use the exercise."

"Certainly. Who's a good girl?"

A happy bark and the scrambling of paws over wood was followed by the headlong rush of her dog into her chest, licking her face emphatically. "Yes, you are! Yes you are! Who's gonna protect mother from all the nasty varmints out and about while she shops?"

The dog barked and stood, chest puffed out.

"The best girl around, that's who!"

Mother smiled at them fondly before telling the dog in low tones about the plans she was making.

Li'rae sighed, and Bethy cleared her throat. "Serendipity? Please, don't tell me."

"Of course I won't sis."  
"So, who are the cookies for?"

Li'rae mumbled something quietly.

"What? Wait! Is it for-"

"Yes, hush. It was part of a deal."

"Oh, you are smitten!" She giggled, "Oh, how did the meeting go? I mean, in the F-A-D-E?"

"I think I'm not the only one who's smitten, sister. It was… very nice."

"Wait, how nice?"

"Talking and teasing. He's still running from Danarius."

"Bastard." She growled, "Poor Fenris. He deserves better."

"Agreed! I want that blighted monster destroyed!"

"Agreed. If it comes to it…"

"If it comes to it, I'm with him."

"Of course, me too." The sisters smiled, "Love you, Bethy."

"Love you too, Rae Rae."

…

Fenris heard a light tapping at his front door. He was out of his bedding, sword in hand before the third rap fell. "Hello?" A voice. Familiar. Feminine. His face colored as he remembered the dreams he'd been having. Swirling colors, soft touches, and other impossibilities. Damn mage.

"Hawke?" He replied, "Come in."

She did as bidden, opening the door with some sort of package under her arm, and a basket in the other. "Brought you a present and a payment." She said, smiling. "The payment first, of course."

"The cookies?" He asked though he knew the answer. In response, she pulled a cloth covering away from atop the pastries, and handed the bounty to him unreservedly. His stomach growled loudly, reminding him of his promises of sustenance.

He waited for a moment, before leading her up the stairs and into the room he'd slept in. He gestured at the place they'd been sitting the night before, and she sat. "Are you going to taste them?" She asked, frowning.

He silently chastised himself, she had expected something of him, and he had failed. He picked two out, and handed one to her, "I did promise to share." He let himself smile.

She nodded, and they each took a bite. Fenris closed his eyes, "Very good."

"I'm glad you like it." She replied. "Now, to the present."

He eyed her suspiciously, "Why would you get me anything?"

"Well… my brother is a warrior, loves his big shiny sword, he's always caring for it. –Somehow I think maybe there's a metaphor I'm missing here, but I'll move on.- He taught me to sharpen and clean, and whatnot, the blade on the edge of my staff. It's a new addition. Only had it for a few months, anyway… He taught me about various oils and whetstones… and I noticed that you don't have much in the way of belongings, so I thought, perhaps, you'd like this." She handed him the package, wrapped in brown paper, and tied with a bit of cord. He looked at her wryly, before opening it to find three bottles of oil, a good new stone, and a cloth. "I hope it's the right kind, I don't really know-"

"Rae…" He made a little sound, "No one has… has _ever_ given me a gift. Thank you. I am grateful."

She was clearly very pleased with his response, "Good. I'm glad. You're welcome."

He chuckled, and proceeded to put her gift to good use.

"Fenris?"

"That is my name." He murmured, relishing in the task of tending his too long neglected blade.

"Do you remember?"

He looked at her anew, startled. Fragments of conversations. Promises. Fears, as well as a certain level of affection and attraction. Reassurances, then the heavy weight of her given word. "I am not certain."

"Do you remember me, at least?"

"I remember a lady from a dream. She also has fair hair, green eyes, and magical talent. Her name is Li'rae as well."

"Not 'as well', Fenris. It's me."

"I understand that." He said emphatically. "I remember you from the Fade."

"You kept your promise." She beamed at him, happily.

He made no effort to respond to that.

"I'm proud of you, my friend."

"And I am still unconvinced that you are not a demon."

She rolled her eyes, "So, anyway, I have an offer of employment. Mercenary work. Nothing we can't handle. Bethany is coming, and my business partner, a dwarf named Varric."

"And you wish me to come?"

"Yeah. I need an awesome elf."

He scoffed, "My elvishness is the reason you wish me to accompany you? I am afraid I will disappoint you, Li'rae. I have been told by many 'true elves' that I am as bad as a 'shemlen'."

"And what would they know? Not one of them is awesome!"

He shook his head, "Flatterer."

"Mmmhm. Coming?"

"Yes. If you wish it."

"Yay!"


	16. Chapter 16 Two steps forward

Big huge hugs to Ekocentric, who drew and colored the coverart for this story. :D You're awesome! Thanks to Zeden and Amina Noir, heavenXscent , Eviza, and everyone else who reviewed. Thanks to you guys who favorited and followed the story, and you who read but don't review. You're all awesome. :)

…

Hawke smiled to herself as she made her way to Hightown. Humming a nonsensical song along the way, and skipping. "Today is going to be good." She said to herself. It'd started out with Bethany and mother talking amongst themselves, Carver and Gamlen arguing, and Tarian sprawled out at her side. Warmth and comfort, and a surprising lack of stink. Now, with her faithful Mabari trotting alongside her, she was going to collect her favorite elf, then down to meet with Varric at the Hanged Man, for a certain discussion revolving around their shared endeavor, then back up to Hightown to get Aveline, so that the lot of them could bruise up some highwaymen. "And fun."

As she trotted through the markets, only casually glancing at the wares amassed there, she heard her name called from a shadowy corner. "Li'rae." She recognized the voice. Smiling, she course corrected so that she was standing before the speaker, "Well, hello!" She greeted, "I was just coming to see you, Fenris."

He gave her a slight smile, "As I suspected."

"So smug." She chided, "You just knew I wanted to see you?"

He nodded, blushing, "You need 'an awesome elf.'" He quoted, "For the trek."

She licked her lips slowly, feeling satisfied as his eyes followed her tongue. "Yes." She said, her voice low and smooth, "For the trek."

He chuckled nervously, and stepped out of his shadowy alcove, "You have supplies, of course?"

"Some. I do need a new pack. Killing raiders is a lucrative business. That's where we're going today."

"Yes, I gathered. The new pack will go to harvesting their finds?"

"Whatever Aveline doesn't confiscate as evidence, yeah. We'll all split the take when we get back tomorrow."

"As you like." He said, not expecting to be among that number.

She glanced at him slyly, "Well, I do always get what I want."

He rolled his eyes, "Some reference to a conversation we supposedly had which I can remember only for the fact that you would not keep your hands off of me?"

"I didn't hear you complaining, Fenris."

"No doubt you cast a spell upon me to still my tongue."

She bumped his side with her hip, surprising him, enough that he stumbled to the side. "Woman!" He growled.

"Perhaps I should have used the spell, instead?" She teased as she began rummaging through a tailor's goods.

Fenris stepped back, letting his eyes wander over her backside, forgetting that he was irritated as she swayed her hips. Probably she was just fidgeting so that she could get some particularly good looking piece of merchandise, but just then, the movement was entrancing. He coughed, looking away fervently, and hoping that it didn't show, how easily she… distracted him. "What do you think?" She held up a leather bag.

"I- ehm- it looks fine."

She cocked her head, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He said, too quickly.

Her knowing smile was enough to assure him that she was not fooled. "Oh?"

"No."

She held up the pack, "Think it's sturdy enough?"

He took the bag, careful not to look at her, touch her, or smell her. "It would seem to be of a good quality. Ah, a rune. It looks like… lightening… or lightning. The symbols are surprisingly similar, but since it is carved into a pack, I think it more likely to lighten the weight of whatever is inside of it, than to electrocute the wearer."

She chuckled, "You're probably right." She said as she set about haggling with the proprietor.

"Seventy five silvers is exorbitant." She told the man.

His face purpled, "That's an enchanted-"

"Backpack. Yes. Enchantments run about thirty five silvers. There is no way this is a forty silver pack. I'll give you fifty."

"I paid more than that for it, missy!"

"Then you got gulled, sir."

He gritted his teeth, "That's antivan leather, that is! Well worth the extra coin."

"Doubtful. Besides that, I've never noticed a difference between Marcher leather and Antivan."

"That's at least a seventy silver buy, that is!"

"Seventy silver is still too much, "Fifty five."

"I have to make a profit! That hardly covers the cost!"

"Fifty-seven."

"You're trying to rob me. Sixty eight is as low as I can afford!"

"You admitted that fifty seven covered the cost, sixty is a fair price."

The shop keeper frowned, "Sixty seven and I throw in free repair work for your armors."

Hawke pursed her lips as though she were contemplating a distasteful idea, "That is… acceptable. Sixty seven silvers." She pulled the coin out of her purse, "But I want the promise in writing."

"Of course, Serrah, a moment." He went to get a sheet of parchment and a quill, ans wrote the receipt with a flourish. They exchanged coin and parchment, and with well wishes, went along their way.

"You only saved eight silver."

"Which could be put toward food for my family, outfitting our expedition, or healing potions where needed. Besides that, armory repair isn't cheap."

Fenris shrugged, "He will remember you."

"Varric makes sure no one will forget anyway." She smirked, "With his outlandish stories. Really, he added a griffin and a barbarian princess to the story of my family's escape from Lothering. He said it made the ogre killing more believable."

Fenris' lips twitched, "It's a rare thing that can make that story palatable without knowing you first."

"Do you remember it?" She asked her soft voice lilting so that he heard the pleasure his attention engendered, rather than the actual question.

"Something about you shooting at it like an arrow, then boiling its insides."

"The reality was much more gorey." She said quietly. "And it smelled terribly."

"I… want to say something comforting, but I am not adept with-"

"Thank you, Fenris. The sentiment is appreciated." She said.

He nodded. "So, we are going where?"

"The Hanged man, we've got to meet up with Varric."

"The Dwarf? I almost met him once, while looking for you. He was the wrong dwarf, however, so I moved on."

Hawke snickered, "Make sure to tell him that." Gesturing back through the market, to the stairs they would descend toward Lowtown.

"I sense a trap." He proclaimed.

"Just an amusing insult. You know, Varric could have found me easier than Anso."

"Now I do." He yawned , "Where to after Varric?" She told him about Aveline and her business in short order.

"And then, home for a big dinner! Maybe to the Hanged man for wicked grace and a pint after that, what do you think?"

"I prefer wine, and I dislike crowds, but if you wish me to accompany you, I shall."

"We don't have to go to the Hanged man… we could stay at Gamlen's, or… go to your mansion?"

"Either of those would be preferable, but as I said, I will follow you regardless."

She smiled, and brushed the back of his hand with hers. He pulled away snappishly. The contact had surprised him. He felt suddenly ashamed, even as she ducked her head, "I'm sorry."

He swallowed, "No, you surprised me." He schooled his features into a blank mask as he hesitantly touched her arm. "But I should not have reacted so harshly.

She shrugged, her face a burning pink.

He stopped them, gulped, and touched her chin, "I am… unused to touching." He frowned when she wouldn't look at him, "Dear one." He chided, "Do not…please?"

She sighed mightily, "Please what?"

"Do not lose your smile." He said after a moment's pause. "I would miss it if it sojourned elsewhere."

"It's fine."

"No." He said stubbornly, "It isn't."

"Fenris, I'm fine."

He shook his head, "You are lovely, kind, patient and strong. 'Fine' is not enough."

She sighed, "Fine. I'm sad. Disappointed. I care for you, Fenris, I feel…" She struggled for the word, but sighed when it would not come to her, "We've spent so long together. I feel that I know you intimately. In… our time alone together…" She looked at him meaningfully, "I could take your hand, or… maker's tits, I could kiss you, but now… I'm so frustrated."

Fenris stared at his feet studiously, well aware that they had begun to draw stares. He felt each word she spoke, or did not speak, as a failure. "Look at me, Fenris."

He did as she bade him, guilt stabbing at him as he saw her lip trembling, her eyes puffing. For a moment, he thought she would ask him to kiss her. He would have obliged, and happily. But she did not. Instead, a pair of tears, left then right, slipped from her eyes. Fenris grimaced, pained, but did nothing.

"Fenris, do you… care for me?"

He couldn't speak. Couldn't. His tongue grew in his mouth. His lips glued together. He just looked at her, longingly, wishing that one of them would bridge the gap that his instincts had created. "I see." She said, voice thick.

He felt something break inside himself, before she turned, he reached out, almost taking her hand, but she had not seen him move, so she wrapped them around herself, and murmured unhappily, "Let's go." His disappointment prevented him from forming a reply.

…

"Here we are, the Hanged Man…" She gestured with wide arms and forced levity.

"Charming." He replied, stewing.

"Quite charming, with all the vomit and fluffy little flea wagons around here, it's like a pet shop… you know, one that serves ale that tastes of urine."

"Yes."

She chuckled, mostly because she didn't know what else to do. Sighing, she pushed open the door, which, oddly enough, seemed to signal the beginning of a brawl.

"Yuh owe us Isabela."

"Well… Lucky… I'll tell you what, since you gave me nothing, I'll pay you twice as much in return."

Lucky, a raider by the looks of him, slapped something out of Isabela's- someone who looked, for all the world, like she'd forgotten her pants, and small clothes in favor of a pretty blue bandanna- hands. He snarled lewdly, "Me and my boys will get our money's worth, bitch!"  
"Oh, you poor," She ran one hand up his arm, the other on his wrist, "Sweet" She grabbed his wrist, "thing…" Her first hand reached the back of his head, his wrist pinned to the bar in the other, she smashed poor Lucky's head into the bar, once- twice, and then a third time. One of his boys grabbed hold of her from behind, she lifted her legs, smashed her head back into his nose- he let go as Lucky's other comrade threw a bottle at her, she ducked, it smashed into the boy's face, she stood, jabbed the man in the nose, kicked him in the groin, then threw a mean right hook at his jaw, and the man- leading with his nose, fell to the floor. Lucky staggered to his feet, drawing his blade, but before he could unsheathe it, her dagger was touching his throat "Tell me, Lucky," She said, her other hand, steady around the hilt of her second dagger, above her right shoulder, "Is this worth dying for?"

Not one word, did Lucky utter as he edged away from her, a look called his boys. They fled the bar, past Hawke, and Fenris, as the woman reached back for her drink, lifted it to her lips, and chuckled, "I didn't think so."

As she lustily smiled over the room, she caught sight of the pair. She leaned back so that her breasts strained against the thin fabric of her 'dress', and her chin nearly touched her sternum. It was almost an invitation.

Hawke frowned, but she had to walk past to get to Varric's room, so she walked that way, Fenris sneering distastefully or scowling fiercely at anyone who looked at Hawke too closely. "Careful, sweet thing, you're nothing but tits and ass in this place, and the men here won't hesitate to grab at both."

"Speaking from experience?" Fenris quipped, before he could chide himself back to silence.

"Mmm, I wouldn't mind if you-"

"I am not interested." He said, glancing at Li'rae briefly.

She followed his gaze, "What about you, lovely?"

"No." Hawke said.

"Sad, but, on the bright side, I've never been easily discouraged, perhaps another night?"

Hawke rolled her eyes.

"Come on, beautiful." Isabela simpered, "Smile for me."

"I have business. I must go." Hawke said.

"Fine, fine, but when you've a moment, I have a proposition. There's gold in it for you, if you accept, and a free pint if you don't."

Hawke sighed, "Speak."

"Right. I'm Isabela, formerly Captain, but sadly, without a ship, that title rings a bit hollow."

Hawke made a motion for her to continue.

"I think you're just what I'm looking for, to solve… a little problem I have."

"You too? There must be something in the water around here."

"Mmm, someone from my past has been pestering me. I've arranged for a duel, but he doesn't play fair. I think he's going to betray me. He's been dragging my name all over Kirkwall, so, rather than let him find me, I… thought I'd get it over with. Meet him face-to-face."

"What was that, with Lucky, about?"

"I hired him to find something I lost. He failed. Simple as that."

"So, why duel this man?"

"I like duels, and if I win, he'll be dead. Problem solved."

"So, you want me to play backup for you? That's it? How much is the pay?"

"All the coin he has on his dead body, and whatever his lackies own."

"Not enough." Hawke said.

"Sweeten the pot?" Isabela looked shifty, "Fine, I… I…" She fumbled for her coin, "Two sovereigns."

"And?"

"And my services. Whatever you need, whenever you need it." She said quickly, "And my gratitude."

Hawke looked at Fenris, who was staring at her, "When and where?"

"In front of the Chantry in two days at midnight."

"Gold now."

"What? No, you haven't-"

"If you don't pay now, you won't pay. Pay Hawke now, or no help will be forthcoming."

Isabela grimaced, "How about we meet just before the duel? Tenth bell?"

"If I wait, the price goes up." Hawke said.

"Fine, three sovereigns at tenth bell the night of the duel."

"Deal." Hawke said, "Don't be late."

"Likewise." She grumbled.

Hawke nodded, dismissing the dark woman, and gesturing to her elvhen companion toward the stairs. The pair walked side by side until the doorway, then Hawke entered first, and Fenris followed. "Varric!"

Fenris' first impression of the dwarf was that he was beardless, the second, was that he saw everything. "Heh, Hawke! Been wondering when you'd drop by."

"Well, you needn't wonder any longer. I believe we have plans to discuss?"

The Dwarf raised an eyebrow at her, "Why, Hawke, you've neglected to introduce me to your friend?"

"Oh, sorry, Fenris, this is Varric, my business partner. Varric, this is Fenris, he is a longtime friend and a damn fine swordsman."

"And an elf with a scowl to rival the Archdemon's."

Fenris grimaced, but held his tongue.

"Don't make fun." She said, "I've seen you sporting some nasty grimaces around Bartrand."

"Hell, anyone near Bartrand sports a grimace."

"I managed to keep my sunny disposition."

"You are a force of nature, Hawke! You don't count."

"And here I thought I was a woman. Good to know where I stand."

Fenris managed to hide his smirk behind his hair, or so he'd thought, "The broody elf liked that one. Was that a smile, broody?"

"I do not brood."

"Bah, I'm a Dwarf, Broody, we know brooding when we see it. It's bred in bone with us."

Fenris sighed.

"Anyway, we have most of what we need. We need an entrance. Maps."

"Wouldn't any entrance do, so long as there's not a dragon sitting atop it?"

"No. We need one close to our destination, close to us, and preferably not filled with Darkspawn and already looted."

"Ah, well, given the choice between those two problems, I'd take the dragon. Hard to kill, but once you've sawn off it's head, you're home free."

Fenris chuckled, "Offer it pastries."

Varric frowned at them, "What?"

Hawke snickered, "Moving on. You have information, I suppose, which might lead us to these maps?"

"Not yet, but I might have a lead. Come back another time."

"Sure. Hey, you up for a bit of a stroll? Aveline has some work for us. Bethany's coming and so is Fenris here. I could sure use my trusty Dwarf."  
"Heh, of course, I could use some fresh air and sunshine... wait, I'm a dwarf. I could use a darker cave and some ale."

"Please, Varric?"

"Yeah, yeah. Let me get Bianca."

"Bianca?" Fenris asked, as he watched the dwarf pick up a well maintained crossbow, and proceed to fondle it's various knobs and whachamajiggs.  
"Bianca, meet Broody, Broody, this is Bianca." He said, introducing them as though he was not speaking to a crossbow and an elf.

"Bianca is… a weapon?"

"Yeah, why what's yours called?"

"Lethedralis." He said.

"Bianca is prettier." Varric said, defensively.

"Lethedralis is deadlier." The elf smiled and scowled all at once, coming off rather menacing.

"Shit, Hawke, you keep strange company."

"And stranger by the day, my short friend."


	17. Chapter 17 Not the way it should be

Hawke, Fenris and Varric met Aveline just as she ended her shift. "Hello Hawke." She said casually, "I have the time off, just let me grab my pack."

"Good." She grinned, "I can't wait."

Aveline rolled her eyes at Hawke as she marched into the barracks. "Oh, hello Donnic." She murmured from the other room, "Yes, for a day at most."

"So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Late tomorrow, but yes."

"I have night patrol tomorrow, so in the morning."

"Of course, Guardsman. Breakfast two days from today?"

"It's a date- er, I meant an engagement- er, yes, I will see you then. Fare well, Aveline."

Varric made a small sound as he heard her, "Oh, my kingdom for a quill, this is too good."

"Fare well Donnic." She said, her voice haltingly awkward. "Lets go." She said as she caught Varric's smirk and Hawke's barely hidden curiousity.

"Right, Guardswoman." Hawke smirked, "As you say." She chuckled and hummed, dancing without altering her gait. Fenris wondered if he was making her into more than she was with his appraising eye. Surely no one was so… graceful. Or perhaps she walked just so for him?

He shook his head, such thoughts were unproductive at best, and at worst, utterly distracting. Why was he so warm? He chided himself for foolishness and leveled himself with her. "I apologize again."

"No need." She said quietly.

"I still…feel wrong about what happened."

"It wasn't that bad." She told him, gave him a smile. "Don't make such a mountain out of a molehill."

"I am unfamiliar with that phrasing."

"Drop it, it's no big deal. A hiccough. That's all." She grinned.

Fenris felt his gut wrench at those words for two reasons, first, he was unsure as to what she had called a hiccough. He felt unreasonably terrified that her interest in him was what she was speaking on. Second, that smile. It sent his senses tumbling through space, longing and fear coupled with lust and the certainty that he was alone in the way he felt for her. What did he feel? He had only physically known the woman for a few days, before that… a tenth of the life he could recall. His emotions stormed around him as she directed her attention elsewhere.

"Hey elf."

Fenris glanced at the dwarf before replying, "Yes?"

"Is Brooding a sport in Tevinter? Do they hand out trophies for the best scowl?"

"I am not brooding."

"Moping then, you seem like a real champion at it."

"I am perfectly content at the moment." Fenris told him. In truth, he was as at ease as he'd ever been, as evidenced by the confusion he was allowing himself to feel about Hawke.

"Oh, so that's you smiling, thanks for telling me, I would never have guessed."

Fenris rolled his eyes, and looked to the sky, "I think it may rain." He said to no one in particular as they trudged down the many stairs from hightown to lowtown, where the city gates were.

"I love the rain." Li'rae told him, smiling. "It reminds me of my father."

"Hawke, this looks like a helluva storm." Varric said.

"That's why. He said that storms like this one were like magic to mages. Daunting, terrible, terrifying, and oh so very necessary."

Fenris frowned, "How so?"

"He said that the torrent of rain was the magic its self. The lightning and thunder and floods were demons. Mages were the land, in dire need of moisture, yet if unprepared, easily spoiled. Easily overtaken. Easily broken. A proper mage was like farmland, with proper irrigation. It could handle the flood because it was ready. It could shrug off the blow of lightning. It did not shake for fear of thunder… and afterwards, when the sun returned, it flourished."

"That reminds me, where is Sunshine, Hawke?" Varric asked, "She is coming isn't she?"

"She'll meet us at the gates." Hawke responded, "Mother asked her to help with something."

"Something you should be doing?" Aveline asked.

"No, Mother shooed me out of the house just after sunrise."

"I can attest to that." Fenris said, "She met me in the markets shortly after she left home."

Aveline nodded, "And you are?"

"Oh, sorry, Aveline. Fenris meet Guardswoman Aveline Vallen. I told you about her, before, remember?"

"Of course. She helped your family escape the Blight."

"That's right. Aveline, I think I mentioned Fenris to you."

"Right, I'm still not sure I understand it. Not sure I want to. I am sure that we shouldn't be talking about it in public."

"That good is it?" Varric scoffed, "You wound me, Hawke. I have to hear this story."

"Not now, Dwarf." Fenris scowled, "There are Templars about."

"Right, the glowy staff and mage robes will most certainly not tip them off."

"Hush, Varric." Hawke scolded, "They probably see us together, remember your stories, scoff and say, 'that lady there is trying to be _The _Hawke. As if she could pull that one off.'"

"Wouldn't that be funny?" Varric asked, "If I were the only reason you were able to walk freely about."

"And this is why you've won the Trusty Dwarf award." Hawke said, "Your stories keep me free!"

"I do aim to please."

"Will you two be quiet?" Aveline snapped, "Five minutes, that's all I ask. Five minutes!"

"Yes mum." Hawke teased.

"So help me, Hawke, or I will turn this quest around!" Aveline wagged a finger at the smaller woman.

"Oh, alright. I'll be quiet. Just don't expect me to stop talking."

Aveline sighed, "This is going to be a long day."

"You love me, big girl."

"Sure I do, just like another hole in my head."

"I'll patiently ignore the sarcasm, because I love you too, my friend."

"A very long day."

Hawke giggled. Giggled. The sound startled Fenris. He looked at her incredulously, "You're right Aveline! And by the end of it, we will all be very tired, but only half way home."

"I couldn't help that Hawke." Aveline said, "Jeven saddled me with another worthless shift in the ass end of hightown. Nothing to do. Just something to keep me quiet."

"Wait… Aveline, what do you do in your free time?" Varric asked.

"This _is_ my free time, Varric."

"And the trend of you scaring the piss out of me continues."

Aveline tossed her red head back and laughed, "Oh, you!" She said.

"I was serious." Varric harrumphed.

"And that is exactly why it's funny."

Fenris scratched his head, but decided to just write to encounter off as strange, and walk beside Hawke instead of behind her. "Do you want a pair of boots?"

"What?" He asked, bewildered, "Why would I?"

"Well, you're barefoot."

Fenris raised a brow, "And obviously I should change that because…?"

"Because you might step on something sharp." Li'rae said.

"Thank you but no. I enjoy feeling the texture of the ground. Additionally, it would be an awkward addition. They would throw me off in battle, as I am unused to the weight."

She shrugged, "Just a thought. You are very graceful, Fenris. You know that?" She gave him a smoldering look, which made his boldness wilt and stymied his tongue, "Not to mention handsome."

"I-"

He was- thank the Maker and Blessed Andraste- saved from having to answer, by a cutpurse. The fool thought it wise to try and rob the pretty lady traveling with a guardswoman, a broadsword carrying elf, and a crossbow toting dwarf on a giant set of stairs. Bless his inept mind and fingers. Fenris grabbed him by the shoulder before he'd even pocketed the coin, lifted his own pouch, slammed him to the ground, and said, "Foolishness fathers wickedness." Fenris whispered, just loud enough to be heard, "If you wish to be wise, relinquish the lady's purse, and pursue another career path."

The boy gulped, and rushed to hand back to him what was Hawke's. He then scrambled away, terrified. "I believe you lost something?" He said, standing and turning.

Hawke blushed as he did, Aveline looked impressed, and Varric snorted, "Good work, elf."

"Thank you, Dwarf."

He tied the coin he'd lifted off the boy's side onto his belt, then pressed her pouch into her hand, smiling at the stammering, blushing woman. "It is returned." He said.

"Thank you." Li'rae said, cheeks burning. She'd been caught staring after being snatched from. How to salvage the moment? As he pressed the coin into her hand, his gauntleted fingers grazed her hand, causing cool pleasure to bloom under his touch. Her breath hitched as he leaned close, and she could smell him. Soap, leather and weapon oil, along with… well something else. He smiled at her, and she felt her face burning brighter. "Thank you."

"You said that already, Li'rae." Fenris told her.

"Y-yes."

He chuckled, took her hand, and moved it and the coin, to her hip, where he tied the coin more carefully. "Keep a better eye on this. I won't always be so close."

"Yes." She said more confidently.

"And Rae…" He said, waiting for a response.

"Y-yes?"

"_You_ are gorgeous." He said, leaning so that his breath tickled her ear. So close that if he'd turned his head slightly, his lips would have touched her ear. "Minx."

Fenris would later be appalled at his lack of decorum. He would feel that he embarrassed her, fear that she would send him away, but right then, he felt some small measure of triumph at the flush coloring her face, and the surprised smile on her lips. Her lips. He backed away, and gestured for her to lead on. She looked toward Lowtown, and for a brief moment, her look was uncomprehending. Then she grunted, and walked on. He chuckled.

The Dwarf gave him an incredulous sidelong glance, and Aveline raised a brow, but neither of them commented at the immensely satisfied look on his face. "Damn it, and me without so much as a quill." Varric scolded himself, "Hawke, I've got to make a stop, anywhere with parchment, ink and quills will do. Anywhere. Seriously, Hawke, please take pity on me."

"Sure." She said with forced levity. "Whatever you want."

Varric made a grateful noise, and grinned.

Fenris felt it necessary to cajole a promise, "Whatever you're doing, my name and Hawke's will stay out of it."

"Oh, of course. I was thinking that the hero would be a seething, mage hating elf with a conspicuous lack of tattoos, named Henris, and the heroine of the story would be a beautiful mage, for irony, you understand, and a sultry walk, named Fawke."

Fenris frowned, "Fawke? That is not a woman's name."

"It's her family name. Tragedy struck, leaving her the head of said family, at an early age. It's been all she could do to keep them fed."

"That is not-"  
"Bethany!" Li'rae shouted, jogging down the steps happily, "Bethany! I have missed you! Maker, I've missed you. You have no idea."

She chuckled, "Tell me later. For now, lets get out of this blighted town."

"Agreed, sister!" She said, linking arms.

…

They made better time than they'd thought, finding the bandits by noon. Varric's roguish expertise made him a valuable asset when it came to the traps and locked chests they found along the way. Aveline was indeed a grand fighter, a natural powerhouse who would not allow a single enemy through to the mages and rogue. Fenris, of course, was in the thick, cleaving through the bandits with relative ease. After all was done, Aveline, breathless knelt at the side of one of a dead male, and tisked, "Well equipped for bandits. Hmm, in any case, dead is dead, and the road is clear. Captain Jeven needs to know of this. Back to the Barracks for your just reward!"

"Oh, yay!" Hawke said, "Wait, though, I'm sure they've got coin on them, and I want it."

"Hawke." Aveline groaned.

"A gal's gotta eat. Besides myself, I have five mouths to feed, Aveline. Plus, I have to finance that expedition. Every copper bit helps." She said, rummaging through pockets, "A dead robber's honor is more than I can afford."

"Practical." Fenris approved, kneeling and filling the as yet empty pack he'd been charged with, with trinkets. Anything from stale biscuits to fractured opals. "Fenris, I found something good." Hawke called.

He answered by getting up and moving to her side, "What is it?"

"An injury kit, a belt- Carver could use a new one, Tarian has been chewing- and an enchanted ring, it has stamina runes, as well as strength. Would you like it?"

"A… ring?"

"That is what it looks like, but who knows, it could simply be a circle of metal he mistook for a ring."

Fenris smiled, "Thank you, but you should offer it to your brother as well."

"No, his fingers are too fat, Mine are too skinny, Aveline detests rings, Varric already has a few of his own, and this looks like it'd fit your index finger perfectly. Plus it'll compliment your skin tone."

He blushed, "You would never see it beneath the gauntlets."

"Well, it's not exactly made for style, my friend. I'll be content if it helps you at all."

"You are very kind to me, Rae." He said. "Very well, I accept… and…" He frowned, "I found something practical for you, as well. It is a pattern, and Kaddis."

"Er… Kaddis?"

Fenris chuckled, "War paint. For your hound. I was told that Ferelden is home to a group called the Ash warriors, who use the paint, as did the Magisters of old, to tell friend from foe, so that the Mabari would not confuse them in a blood haze. I did not bring it here, though."

"Fenris, you shouldn't have."

He grunted, "I believe it to be as much for me as you. I have seen Tarian's teeth, after all, and would not relish being mistaken for her foe."

She laughed, "You Glow, Fenris. I doubt she could mistake you, if she tried."

"I don't always Glow." He replied defensively, "Like now."

"But now, we're not in battle are we?"

"I suppose not."

Hawke's smirk was smug in response, "Well, then, I doubt she would mistake you."

"Perhaps for the-"

"Fenris, thank you. It's a lovely gift. I appreciate it."

"Perhaps after dinner, we should return to my mansion to retrieve it."

"Certainly. I'll bring Tarian and you can teach me to apply it."

"Will you two get a room?" Varric asked.

…

. .

…

_Smiling, sparkling, like sunshine on diamonds. The Fade brightened in her presence. It solidified and she, in response to it, gladly gave it form. There was a crystalline dais, surrounded by pink sand and deep blue water. She danced by herself, singing softly to herself of sweet things, and secret hopes. Twirling along the sand, stumbling now and again in her intense fervor, grinning as only fools and children grin… that was how he found her._

_By this time, there was no searching. No wondering if one or the other would come. They came together in this place for a sweet reprieve. "Rae." He called her name softly, "You should be more alert."_

_She stopped at his voice, turned, gave him one of _Those_ grins, and ran away. "I am aware, Fenris!" She laughed._

_Before he would do this. Play. Whatever she'd like to call it, he had to make sure. He was before her in an instant, and she crashed into him, tumbling them both to the ground. "I reacted poorly to you earlier. I want you to know I mourned the missed touch all day."_

_Her reaction was silent, but… very clear. She cupped his cheeks and kissed him fervently, deeply. His breath was lost, fingers shaking, his hands ghosted over her back, one to her bottom, the other, he tangled into her hair as he returned the kiss. She shocked him, by moving her hand down his neck, chest, to his lower abdomen. She pressed her hand against him, moved it back up, and broke the kiss. He groaned. "__Festis bei umo canavarum__." The words were out before he could think._

"_What does that mean?" She asked, toying with his hair._

"_You will be the death of me."_

_She chuckled, "A good death, though."_

_To that, he had no response, except, "You are right. I doubt that I would regret it."_

_She smiled. He felt something shift, "Will you do something for me, Fenris?"_

"_Of course." He replied. Something was wrong. Something was off._

_She leaned over him, her breasts very visible. Warmth traveled from his mind to his groin, leaving his brain without much in the way of bloodflow. His hands roved over her greedily, achingly. "All I want is one moment. I'll give you everything-"_

"_What?" He asked bewildered. "What do you want?"_

"_Oh, you, of course, my darling, and a moment of your time. Just a small moment-"_

"_Fasta Vass!" He snarled, heaving her off of him, retreating. "Demon!" He spat. "Get away from me!"_

_Li'rae's face melted away to reveal the baldly beautiful purple temptress dressed only in nipple piercings, horns, and something that covered a bit around her loins. "Come now, my love, just a moment. A word. Then all that you desire," Her hands left trails along her side, then she rubbed at her own breast, teasing the nipple with a thumb. "And more, I promise you, more…"_

"_No! I will not submit!" He drew his greatsword from the air, and attacked. She summoned shades, and even lesser demons to her aid, but to no avail. When he was finished, he left her in a ruined heap-_

…

. .

...

"Fenris, Fenris! Wake up!" Someone slapped the side of his face, and then a bucket of cold water washed over him.

He sat up, coughing and sputtering, even as someone grasped his shoulders, "Look at me!" He was commanded. He did so. Dark green eyes urgently probed his own, "This will not hurt you." She said as her magic pulsed into his skin. His markings flared brilliantly at the touch, and burned over him in that familiar way. "Good."

As the hands released him, he realized who they belonged to. "Li'rae?"

"Yes." She replied, "Oh, Fenris, I'm so sorry I didn't wake you sooner. You fought one didn't you? Desire?"

"I- Yes."

"You obviously won."

"Of course I did." He said, growing angry, "Where were you?"

"On my watch. Everyone else is asleep, just me and Bethy, talking, then we went to make our rounds. I heard you yell."

Embarrassment made his face cloud, "You woke me."

"I did." She knelt beside him, her hands on his shoulders, "Silly man. I would have snatched you from her jowls if I had to."

That made his heart slow, and his core warm. "She… used your face." And body. Lips, hands, breasts, everything.

Li'rae kissed his cheek, "Not your fault."

"I almost gave her-"

Li'rae kissed his jaw. He closed his eyes, savoring the touch. Then a ghost of what he should have felt in the Fade made him wary, "How do I know this is real?" He asked, eyes wary, wide.

"Where is your sword?"

He gestured beside him.

"In the Fade, you would have conjured it." That made sense. It made a lot of sense. She stroked his cheek again, "I won't let them have you." She promised.

"Likewise. If… If I am possessed. If you can not save me. Do not hesitate to kill me. Swear it."

"Only if you make me that promise too, Fenris."

He gripped her wrist, "I swear it."

"Good. Me too."

He began to relax. "You… should sleep. I can take watch."

"I slept earlier, remember? So did Bethy. You watched over us."

"Ah, yes."

"If you'd like, we can sit together and watch the sunrise?"

In response, Fenris grunted his approval. "After breakfast."

…


	18. 18 Heavy words and empty clearings

Sorry about the wait guys, It's been a rough week. Other than that I have no excuse for not updating. My thanks for your patience and kind words. :) You're awesome. I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

…

Her back was cramped, her head ached, her nose felt like an Ogre had thumped it, her feet were probably going to take the first opportunity to fall off, her legs were tired and sore, her eyes hurt for some reason, and her tongue itched. That about summed up her list of physical ailments. Nothing major, just annoying and excruciating as each pain and discomfort griped at her for attention. "I hate the Wounded Coast. I hate Sundermount." She groaned as she came back to consciousness.

Fenris chuckled, "Would it make you feel any better to hear the less than obvious hatreds I bear?"

"Misery loves company."

"Right." He said, "In order; Fish. Danarius. Hadrianna. Magisters, abominations and blood mages in general. Slavers. Left hand blades. Forests. Sylvanwood. Thorned bushes. Shoes. Vomiting. Talkative and inconsiderately conspicuous dwarves." He had raised his voice just slightly so that Varric, who was listening in, "The Alienage. Dalish elves. Sleeping when you are awake." He whispered those words, "The Lowtown Docks. Scones. Ale. Your uncle's lewd innuendos. The idiocy of the gangs in Kirkwall. The smell of your dog after she has been tromping through darktown after you. The ache of hunger. And kittens."

"You hate kittens?" Her eyes rounded, "Why- how could you hate kittens?"

"They are loud, bony, scratchy things that have no idea how to do as they are told."

"But… they're so fluffy and cute."

"I have no time for fluffiness or cuteness." He proclaimed. "And out of all of that I said, you take away that I dislike kittens?"

"My next question was going to be, 'do you really hate fish more than your former master."

"My answer is yes."

"Note to self, no fish for Fenris."

"Thank you. I will remind you to remember that note if you ever offer me any."

Li'rae closed her eyes and smiled. "I'll be excited to get home, even if I is to a hovel."

"I imagine you miss your mother and brother."

"Well, you're mostly right. I'm nervous to discover what he's done in my absence."

"Worry less, Rae. The future can take care of its problems."

"You're right."

"I usually am." He nodded.

Sighing she stood and stretched. Her back popped, she made a sound half way between a hiss and a sigh, then proceeded to do several other stretches, including one where she was bent double, so that her hands lay flat on the ground, and her head was somewhere near her knees. Legs straight. Fenris watched appreciatively. "Woah." Varric said, waking up.

"Begone Dwarf." Fenris said, his eyes still riveted on her body.

"Nah, this is too great a show."

Li'rae stood back up rested on her left hip, right leg out, hands on her waiste. "Varric." She said warningly, "I'll tell Bianca on you."

"Ya know, Hawke, that's just mean."

She raised a brow, "What? Broody here can stare all day, but if I give an appreciative glance…?"

"Yes, Varric. No glancing. You're a committed man."

"Well… I suppose you're right."

She flicked a smirk at Fenris, "I _always_ am."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll just go wake Sunshine, and you can wake Aveline."

"I'm already awake, Varric."

"Right, then. Let's get packed up and ready to move."

"Of course, Hawke."

Bethany popped up, urgently. "Sister, the witch's amulet!"  
"What about it?"

"Where is it?"

"In Tarian's keeping. Why?"

"Don't we need to deliver it?"

"Sure, but… it's not with us."

Visibly uncomfortable, Bethy nodded. "What is it?"

"What if the elves move on? What will we do then."

"Obviously, we will all be very sad. Don't worry, it'll be fine." Li'rae shrugged, "And besides, Fenris hates Dalish elves. I wouldn't want to make him uncomfortable."

Fenris ducked his head, staring at his feet and the pale markings which stung his skin. "If you needed me, I would not balk." He told her earnestly, feeling just a bit pathetic as he stung with jealousy. The thought of another accompanying her without him to watch over her made him intensely uncomfortable. "No matter what."

A tinkling laugh made everything that much worse, "Oh, Fenris!" Bethany giggled.

His neck prickled at her laugh, and his scowl deepened, but he continued staring at his feet. Getting angry at the girl would do no good.

"Fenris, you are so sweet, it's unbearable." Bethany continued, "I'm glad you care so much for my sister."

He begun blushing then, heat stinging his cheeks and ears. His hands clenched of their own accord, but he could not bring himself closer to speaking.

"Beth." Li'rae scolded. "Get some water, I'd like to have tea before we leave."

"You…" She frowned.

"I will get it." He managed to spit the words. "Excuse me." The Elf rushed to grab the kettle, and walked swiftly out of the clearing.

"Bethany Leandra Hawke!" Li'rae scowled, "That was horrible of you." She snapped, jogging after him into the trees, toward the stream.

She found him wading into the water with a grimace, dipping the pot had not been possible from the banks, for some reason. "Fenris?" She called hesitantly.

He twitched at his name, movements becoming much more slow and deliberate. "Yes, Li'rae?"

"I'm sorry about Bethy."

He sighed.

"I mean, she should have known that would embarrass you."

Fenris tossed the kettle to the bank where she stood, "You wish to drink tea. I wish to be alone. I will return to camp soon. If you have left already, I will catch up."

Incredulously, she asked, "You think I'd leave here without you?" She shook her head, "No!... No. Fenris...I don't want tea." She said, stepping over the water pot, stripping down to her underwear and breast band. She heaved off of the rocks and into the cold stream.

His face was very red. He could feel the heat radiating from the blush as he took in her bare skin. "Li'rae?"

She waded to where he stood, and then smiled shyly at him from beneath her eyelashes.

"Li'rae?"

She tentatively placed a hand on his arm, brushing her fingers against his skin, avoiding the marks out of courtesy, "Fenris?"

The stream was cold. The water went to his knees, mid thigh for her, where she was standing. "What…?"

She took that as encouragement, and brushed her other hand up his chest. No armor, only a tunic. Only? He suddenly felt that he was foolish. The shirt would be wet. He was standing in a stream, after all.

She moved closer to him, and he growled, involuntarily, she stopped, eyes wary, searching his. He could see her nipples through the cloth of her band. They were erect. Pebbles atop the soft round of her breasts. That was probably from the water. Yes. Water. Cold. He reminded himself, chiding the instinct that told him she wanted him. Why would she? He had nothing to offer. No there must be some other explanation. Something else. Something… the hand she had placed on his chest moved downward. Her breath heaved, breasts swelling with something his riled body knew though he could not bring himself to think it… to want it. She brushed lightly over his erection, searing him, striking the breath from his lungs. He realized he had grabbed her wrist tightly, and then, Li'rae smiled sweetly: he lost something of his mind to that smile. He ducked his head and claimed her lips, steadying her with a rough hand behind her back, and one to hold her face steady as he licked into her mouth. Her breath caught, and she crushed their bodies together, panting. Heat warmed his core, and he pulled her out of the water. Her legs clasped around his waist, he ground his erection against her. It was automatic. Instinctual. He was suddenly overwhelmed, drowning in pleasure. He gasped her name, she moaned louder than intended as he staggered to the other side of the stream, pressed her against a tree. "Fenris!"

He growled again, "Quiet, woman." He grunted, trailing his lips along her jaw, down her neck til she squeaked and dug her fingers into his scalp, pulling his hair. He cupped her bottom and she shuddered, he thought, with pleasure.

"Hawke- Damn!"

Fenris froze, swollen as he was, pressed against the leather leggings he'd not taken off, and her smallclothes. "Maker's tits, Hawke!" Varric repeated.

"I suggest you go elsewhere, Dwarf." Fenris growled. "Now."

Varric grinned, "Henris and Fawke…" He murmured as he ambled away, "Tangled against…"

Fenris frowned, suddenly much more aware. "Er…" Awkward. He eased her off him, letting her stand on her own. His eyes on the ground, "I apologize, this is… I believe I mistook your advances."

Lips parted for a moment in incredulity then she made a small irritated sound, and told him with no uncertainty or hesitance in her tone, "You did not mistake anything." Her voice was firm, then she cursed, "Damn Dwarf… Perhaps we can continue another time?"

He blinked, mouth slightly open, "What?"

Her blush mad him strain to keep his breathing even, "I mean, I'd like… Maybe we can… well, everyone else will be at the Hanged man, later…?"

Fenris nearly swallowed his tongue, "You want…?"

"I… don't mean to pressure you, Fenris." She said, "This must feel… so sudden to you."

He nodded, "Yes." He coughed, voice raspy.

"You can say no. I don't have to come over."

"But… I am not uncomfortable with your idea." He said hesitantly, "I will… perhaps we can break open a bottle of wine? I did discover a wine cellar in the mansion. It has some rather good vintages from Seheron, a few from Rivain and Orlais. Some from Tevinter…" He scowled, "Though it is common knowledge that all Tevinter wine is made from the blood and tears of slaves."

"Whatever you like, Fenris." She nodded, "We'll get home faster if we go back across and start moving."

He grunted, "Would you like me to carry you? I realize the stream is very cold." He didn't wait for her answer, he simply scooped her into his arms, and trotted carefully through the water. At first, she clung to his neck, then she relaxed. "Soft." He breathed.

"Hmm?"

"You are soft, Li'rae."

"I'm a mage. We don't need to build enormous muscles, and we generally have a layer of fat, so…"

"Mmm. I enjoy…" he stopped himself, chuckling.

"You enjoy…?"

"I was going to say, 'touching you,' or 'holding you'. Something of the like." He said, after a moment of contemplation.

"I enjoy it when you touch and hold me." She purred, leaning against him, sighing into his neck.

"You are such a minx." He grumbled.

She kissed his throat. "I'm not teasing, Fenris." Her voice… her lips, her breath hot on his skin made him stumble. "I am more than willing…" The offer hung in the air. He longed to reach out and take it. Longed to press her on one of the rocks and just… take her…

Instead, memories of his time as a slave itched at the corners of his mind. Demands thrust upon him. Duties he was loath to comply with. Refusal was not nearly as unpleasant as… he shook his head, reminding the memories that he was no longer a slave. The hesitance he felt was less to do with the dwarf, the sister, Aveline, and more to do with the potent knowledge that he had nothing more to give her than a life of constant wariness. Fear. Still… he was flattered. She could surely have found another. Someone who had station, the coin to help her. He set her down on the rock; her knees were level with his chest. She spread her legs, and he moved between him, feeling himself tighten. "Why me?" He asked, not sure he'd like the answer.

Li'rae ran her hands through his hair, it felt good. So good he was almost purring.

"Why are you asking?"

"I wish to know."

With a slight frown, she began to formulate an answer. He had no fear that it would not be truth. "You… When we're together, you… " She sighed, "Can I tell you a story?"

"Will it lead you to the answer?" She nodded, "Then you may."

"I told you about the storm analogy father used to teach us, remember?"

"I do."

Sucking in a deep breath, she said, "Well, sometimes, when he was feeling… weaker… he wouldm't sleep. Neither would mother. They'd go outside and wait for the sun to come back. When I got old enough to realize that it was odd, I asked him about it. He told me that he was in a hurricaine. Wind and thunder and lightning were buffeting him. He was… incapable of defending, so he stayed within his shelter. I still didn't understand. You are protected when you are awake. The demons still rage, but you are protected." She took a deep breath, "And he said Mother helped him. 'My anchor'. He called her. He'd fall to sleep and be attacked if she didn't keep him awake… He told me, 'A mage should never be alone. Too much temptation. Too much power. Alone, we are weaker. More susceptible to… promises and offers. We're a heavy weight on one arm of a scale. No balance." She looked up at the trees, "I feel like that sometimes. I balance Bethany, but she isn't enough to keep me out of the flood."

"I am?"

"Well… yeah. You're always there with me. You see a Demon and you put yourself between it and me, but you know how to move so that I can fight it with you. I know you won't let…"  
"I'd rip you from the Jowls of a demon if I had to." He confirmed.

"And I knew it even before we became friends. We fit." She grinned. "Perfectly."

"So, because I can perform the function of a Templar without caging you."

"No!" She growled, "No. That's only one reason."

"The others?"

She looked down at him, shivering as he trailed fingers along her thighs, "I trust you…." He ran his hands up the insides of her thighs, and stroked the cloth which covered her there. "Oh, Maker, Fenris, you know the other reasons."

He nodded, "I do indeed. Alright, clothe yourself. We have a half day's walk before we reach Kirkwall, and then a dinner to savor."

"And then privacy."

Fenris chuckled, leapt up out of the water, and tossed her her robe. "Hurry up, woman."

"SIGH!" She called after him, as he strutted off, and waited for her beside a tree.

It wasn't until then that he noticed the quiet around them. The hush was unnatural. "What…?" He murmured, before he heard a scream.

His heart leapt into his throat as he whirred around, and tackled Li'rae's attacker. With one swift movement, he broke the fool's neck, and thrust himself onto his feet, back to her. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." She breathed, heavily. "What about the others?"

"I have heard nothing from them since Varric left us."

The worry in her eyes had his gut tightening,

She knelt at the brute's side, and rifled through his pockets. She found a whip, some coin, and a set of throwing knives.

"He is a slaver. Whether he has been sent for me or simply saw you and took the opportunity to attack, it is unclear."

"We have to get to them, Fenris, my sister-! We have to find them."

He tipped her head with a finger, "We will."

She wrapped her arms around him for a brief moment, then she tugged the robe over her body, and ran back toward camp. It was empty.


	19. Chapter 19 The end of a very old fear

_Só leigheas ar an gcomhlacht. Só leigheas an aigne. Séala a bhí gearrtha a. Thógáil ar ais go, goideadh a._

_-Irish (For my purposes Dalish) for "Heal the body. Heal the mind. Seal that which was cut. Take back that, which was stolen." _

_If that was butchered, I'm sorry. I blame google translator._

…

She thought empty upon seeing their clearing but that wasn't accurate. The packs were all still there. Four of them arranged neatly. Hawke's staff, the last gift her father had given her, was there. Inconspicuous. It looked like any other stick, or would have if not for the feather like blade which glinted from it's position at the head. Bethy's staff, however was gone. Li'rae tried to take that as a good sign. Aveline and Varric's weapons were also missing. The fire was stamped out. It looked as though Aveline had prepped for their removal as requested, yet… something was wrong.

"There is a foul weight upon the wind." Fenris growled, "Be on your guard."

Li'rae scowled, and called softly, "Beth? Aveline? Varric? Very funny! Come out. You fooled us."

"Wishful thinking…" A voice which chilled her heart called from somewhere off to the shadows. "Think you that they can hear your entreaties?" Fear made her heart thrum like crazy.

"Mandil." She growled, "You should know better."

"Aye? Well, look here. My mageling all grown and strong, yet without her staff. No weapon to speak of. What shall she do?"

"I do not belong to you Mandil." She said. "And a Mage is never defenseless." She whispered an incantation, which called a glass bow from the air, but drained her of the strength to fire it, though only momentarily.

"Oh," He chuckled, "but you do, small one. You certainly do."

Li'rae looked around the clearing, careful to keep Mandil in sight. Where was Fenris? "Maker, where did you take my companions?"

"They are safe. Each of them. Though they would be safer if you would give the fight up. I would allow them to live and leave. Even that whore of a sister. All I want is you."

"Bastard." She cursed. Then behind the fool who dared threaten her, she caught sight of a mop of white hair a long glint of metal, "Where are they?"

"Not far. The caves." He gestured in the direction they had come. "You may see them if you submit."

She sneered, "You made two mistakes today. You screwed with my people, and you ignored my favorite broadsword carrying elf."

Taking that as his cue, lyrium flared brightly, and Lethendralis sang through the air and parted the slaver's body at the hip. "As far as I knew, Li'rae, you only know one broadsword carrying elf."

She smiled wryly, "You can be my favorite broadsword wielding person ever, if you like. Carver used to hold that title, but honestly, he's never had competition."

Fenris nodded, "I will hide these. We can come back for them once we find our companions."

"Good thinking, but bring the potions and the rune bag. You never know what you might find in such a place as this."

"I agree." He said, "And I believe I have already taken your brother's place from him."

She rolled her eyes, "Side note, you definitely haven't taken my _brother's _place. Considering the way I feel when I'm with you, that's just be weird."

He coughed, "I revise my statement, then."

Together, after hiding the bags within a crevice beside the stream, Fenris and Li'rae tracked their companions who had… seemingly been lured into a mountain. Literally, their tracks ceased at the side of a cliff. "Well. Er…" Li'rae frowned, "This…"

"Look around for a switch. Likely when Bethany, Aveline and Varric passed this way, this was a cave mouth."

"A switch? Seriously?" She looked incredulously around for a lever.

"Magic, Li'rae. This was common practice for slave holders in the Imperium. The cave mouth would be- Ah!" He grinned as he found what he had been looking for. "Accessible to their non magical employees, for when they were gathering slaves to sell at market."

"These people are going to die horribly." She snarled. "By my hand."

Fenris placed a hand on her shoulder, "Rae, the anger I sense in you is not clean. Push them away, they cloud your mind." He scooped her face in his hand, "Rae, listen to me."

Her eyes suddenly cleared, "Yes… you're right. Thanks."

"Would you…" He gestured at the 'switch' which was actually a rune spell. The completion was missing. An element of the spell.

Li'rae circled it, tracing the lines with her mind. "My father, when he taught me rune spells… he said 'every one of these is a story. If you can figure out what happened in the story, you can learn the spell.' Words aren't really important. Magic isn't even all that necessary, just a drop of it from your mana stores. Or a potent lyrium potion splashed over it."

He shifted uncomfortably. She had a dangerous glint in her eyes. Reminding him uncomfortably of Danarius when he would try and puzzle out a new spell. "Can you read this… story?"

"No. Like I said, it's not about words."

"How then-?" Before he could finish she'd held up a finger, and then she began to trace the lines. Over and over. "Li'rae?"

"We can not rush. As much as I'd like to, we can't. If I do this wrong, the cave will collapse."

His eyes widened, "How do you know?"

"It's part of the story." She said cryptically.

"Tell me."

Her finger came, once more, to where the missing piece was. It was just a gap… "In the beginning, that's the center… there were three magisters. One small in stature or power, one in between in stature… and one grand. The small one had the mind of a tactician. He wished to increase his holdings."

"As do they all. Continue."

"The other two, however, were more powerful, and their estates larger." She rubbed her face, "The small magister, however, was much wiser, more cunning, and he held a secret alliance which granted great wealth. He began to use that wealth to his advantage. He killed the Grand magister and stole his power through a demonic deal. The Demon then told him that the middle magister had escaped…Flown far away. Dismissing that mage as unimportant, the small magister usurped his rival's possessions, contacts and all that. Then after many years… he had a vision. He died in his sleep one night later. The vision is what is missing."

Fenris racked his brain for such a story. He had been privy to gossip. No one looks a slaves when they speak ill of their fellows. "I… am sorry. I can not assist."

There was a small sad smile on her face, then she began to trace symbols and pictures into the rune, "I know the rest of the story."

"What?"

"Father…" She said, "My father was enslaved to this small magister. Remembered his greed in warning to us."

"What happened?"

"The magister had a vision. He said that treason would come from his own house against him. The middle magister would buy the heart of one of his faithful, and turn it against him. He became paranoid. Punishment increased. His prediction came true." Two more markings, and then… Before them the wall split, and Aveline lay in the entry way. Her face was bruised, armor dented and bent painfully, her eyes were swollen, and shoulders shaking. "Aveline!"

"Hawke?" Her words were slightly slurred.

"I'm so sorry it took so long, Aveline!" She said, "I'm so sorry…"

"You… came."

"Of course I did, I don't abandon my friends." She knelt, "But where are the others?"

"Deeper on, Hawke."

"Fenris, you need to get her somewhere safe, then help her remove the armor, and give her a potion."

"I can do it, Hawke. Just go help Varric."

"Var-"

"I don't know what happened to your sister, Hawke. I'm so sorry."

Taking a breath to still her throbbing heart, Hawke touched her friend's shoulder, "You should have called for us."

"If I'd have done that, Bethany would be dead." Aveline said. "I'm sorry."

"Go. I don't blame you, Aveline. Go."

"Alright." She hefted herself across the clearing. "If you need me…"

"I know." She nodded.

"Fenris, you'd better not let her get hurt."

"I swear I will not."

There was a shout from within, Li'rae stiffened. "No." She growled, spun about and rushed headlong into danger. Fenris scowled, but followed swiftly. His friend was a roiling thundercloud at the moment. She needed him.

Flame burst into existence around her right hand as the first slaver appeared. She leapt into the air, using her staff to lift off, then swung it around- as she did, the flame fed upon the magic infused in the wood, and launched to the bladed tip, and slammed it full force into the fool's neck. She proceeded to fight much too close for his comfort ravaging her foes, all save one. She had clipped his shoulders, and hamstrung him. "Where is my sister?!" She roared.

The man whimpered, "I-I dunno-"

"Then you are of no use to me!" She snarled.

"Wait, please, wait- The witch is in the pen, two flights down Sixth door on the northern hall. The Dwarf is through there-" He pointed to the room he'd just exited. "Please don't kill-" She swept him high with force magic, then slammed him down as hard as she could.

"Maker's fist." She growled. "Fenris, get Varric, then follow me downstairs if he can fight. If not, take him to Aveline. Meet me after."

"Li'rae, I can't leave-"

"Fenris, now! I can't stop for Varric, but Maker only knows what they're doing to him. Please, go get our Dwarf back!" He didn't budge. "Fenris, there's no one else."

He cringed at the crack in her voice, then covered the distance between them. "There will be hell to pay if it is your fault." He snarled, grabbed her by the shoulders, and crushed their lips together in a kiss neither of them felt until later. Then, he turned about and rushed the room.

"I'm coming, Bethy." She whispered. "Don't worry." She ran down the stairs, and through the ruins. Through traps, over chests, trampling her enemies with magic and force. She saw nothing. Knew nothing save the need to get to Bethany. Her blood was cold at the thought of what she might be going through. Lectures, images and pictures of the evils one mage could do to another rampaged through her memory, all voiced by her father's frantic voice. Her mother's tear stained cheeks. Her brother's blame. It seemed an eternity before she reached the second set of stairs, then began counting the doors. At six she stopped and listened. Then she slammed it open. "Beth!" She breathed. As she saw the shattered body tied to an alter in the middle of the room. Her wrists were slit, her throat ripped. A desperate moan escaped her lips before she tore her eyes from her sister, to assure herself that the room was empty.

"Rae-Rae…?" Her voice was cold, dragging. "Ssssister?"

"It's me, Bethy." Rae sobbed, rushing to her side, pulling her down out of that wicked contraption. "Oh, love, how did you get yourself into this mess?" She cried.

Bethy coughed raggedly, "Don't know. Just lucky."

Li'rae stroked her hair, and called healing energies from the air. "I'm gone thirty minutes and you get yourself nearly sacrificed in a bloody experiment." She chided, "Bethy… Open your eyes! Damn it, woman, I will not lose you!"

"I'm …kay." Beth's voice was like sandpaper. "You don't happen to have any water?"

"SUNSHINE?" Varric's voice called, "Damn it Sunshine, if you die to save me, I'll kill you!"

"Water, Varric!" Li'rae barked, "Water and a healing potion, I'm not the best in that area."

"Right."

"Where's Fenris?"

"I'm here, Rae." He knelt beside her, near Bethany. "You must not give yourself to the Fade just yet, young one." He said, "Do not give these foul Magisters the satisfaction!"

"Fenris, I'm sorry I made fun." She whimpered, "I'm so sorry."

Unexpectedly, he touched her cheek, "Then repay me by living through this monstrosity."

Her breath shook as she steadied herself, "Sister, do you have lyrium?"

"Yes."

"Use it."

She took a potion, gulped it as Varric began to patch her wounds, "Tell me what next, sister."

"Hands over my neck. That's the worst of it." She said, "I managed to get most of my veins healed, and my airway, but…"

"Right, hands in place."

"Now, repeat after me, 'Só leigheas ar an gcomhlacht. Só leigheas an aigne. Séala a bhí gearrtha a. Thógáil ar ais go, goideadh a.'"

"Right." She said, repeating the words carefully. Remembering the Keeper who had spoken them over her father while her sister watched in awe. That had been a horrible night for Li'rae… but a night in which Bethany went suddenly from a girl with no idea what she would study, to a healer of skill.

"Repeat over each of my wrists." She said, "And give me another health potion."

"Varric." He complied quickly.

"Sunshine, don't ever do that to me again. I thought you were dead. I-"

"I'm alright, Varric. My sister is very good."

"I'm not, I just had a good teacher."

"Shh. No flattery, now. Focus on your task."

"Right. 'Só leigheas ar an gcomhlacht…'"

Fenris stood up and began to pace. He had information, which could help. Information, which could serve to prevent Li'rae from weakening herself. Information, which would allow Bethany to stand strong without the need of weeks of recovery. He also had fear. Pain. His skin was beginning to tingle as the lyrium warmed. He shook his head to clear it. He looked at Bethany laying on the floor pale as milk with dark bruises covering her skin as it knit its self together under Rae's magic. He ran his hands through his hair, and blurted, "Use me!" Before he could stop himself.

The three looked at him, none more oddly than Rae. "What?"

"The Lyrium. My skin. Channel the magic through me, and direct it to heal her. It will be much more potent."

Li'rae blinked twice, then shook her head, "No."

"Now's not the time for the high ground Hawke. Take the Elf's offer. Your sister-"

"I won't." She said, "Bethy won't die. I've made sure of it."

"Rae, use me. We need her strong enough to heal Aveline." He said with a sudden burst of inspiration.

Li'rae chewed her lip, scrutinizing his face, "I won't torture you, Fenris."

He took her hand, squeezed it roughly, "I will not have her suffer."

"Damn. My kingdom for a quill. Again. Damn!" Varric muttered.

"Remember the story I told you, about the girl?" He asked, "Her name was Annisa. I still remember every second of that. Let me help you heal Bethy."

Varric knew a trump card when he heard one. He didn't know the story. He didn't have to. He could infer. A magister had bled a girl he cared for dry. He'd had to watch. He looked at Hawke, saw the tension in her shoulders break, and then her gratitude flourish. "How?"

"Speak the incantation… direct the magic into me. I will direct it out. When it comes out it will be through this hand. Use what comes on her. Simple."

Hawke began to speak, unfalteringly. Fenris began to glow. It spread slowly from her hand over the whole of him, and then burst theatrically from his fingertips. Hawke closed her eyes and Varric watched in awe as Sunshine's cuts healed, bruises faded, and color bloomed on her cheeks. The Dwarf's eyes went back up to Fenris, who was shaking. His eyes screwed tight, lips firmly mashed together. Hawke's eyes were closed too, but there was a peace on her face which- no shit- made her look like a Maker be damned paragon of beauty. Not that she would ever hear that from him.

"You can stop now, sister. Wounds all healed."

She broke contact, turning away. Varric watched the elf's face relax, eyes open. His eyes rested on Bethany, who was looking at him with something uncomfortable in her eyes, and then he snapped his head toward Hawke, who was leaning against a wall. Apparently, that wasn't normal. The elf worriedly went to her side, "Li'rae?" There's another thing. The elf always called her by her given name.

"Henris and Fawke…" He muttered, "Damn. We've got to get back to our stuff."

"Yes?" Li'rae's voice nearly cracked with strain, "Fenris?"

He turned her around, searching her face, "It worked." He said lamely. She knew it worked.

"Yes, it did." She acknowledged, "Thank you."

"Are you alright?"

"No. Yes. It's complicated."


	20. A sort of Interlude

Sorry this one's so short…

…

Varric knew lots of things. Some things he didn't want to know, for example, he knew that every pair of underwear Bartrand owned was mustard yellow. Some things he most certainly did want to know, he had eyes on every dirty deal in Hightown, and most of them in Lowtown. About half of said deals, he had profited from. The other half he would soon profit from. Some things, however, he did not know, and had every reason to know, though he didn't want to know, but for his health… he thought he should inquire. One such thing, was the reason Hawke was avoiding her elf.

"For the eighth time Broody, I have no idea where Hawke is."

Fenris scowled deeper, "How could you not know? You were together most recently."

Varric grunted, "Not since she went to get those damn maps from the Grey Warden."

"A week ago." Fenris deadpanned, "I know you have seen her since."

"Bullshit, elf. I'm just as worried as you are."

"To borrow your own words, Dwarf, Bullshit."

Varric sighed, and shrugged, "Maybe she had a few errands to do for her mother? Maybe she's visiting a distant cousin in Starkhaven. Maybe she just doesn't want to see you."

As the beardless dwarf spoke, Fenris had been pacing, dismissing each theory. Errands did not take nigh a month. She had told him that she had no family outside Gamlen, Leandra- her mother, Bethany and Carver. But then the Dwarf had dropped the eight words he had been so feverishly ignoring from within his own mind… and he stopped. Within him, something ugly tore at the kind feelings she had engendered in him. He felt his face become hot, his fists clenched. His breathing hitched, and he became very angry, very quickly. "If that were the case, she should have the decency to tell me." He snarled through gritted teeth. "If that were true, she would tell me, and she'd tell me why."

With a grunt, Varric stood from his cushy thronelike chair, and shrugged, "Maybe so, I don't know. She's not my responsibility to watch out for anyway, elf."

Fenris looked down, and as he did, his white hair fell over his face, obscuring its expression. Varric… he knew what it looked like, anyway. Scowl firmly in place, eyes all round and sad. "Damn, broody, cheer up. I'll buy you a pint."

A long moment ensued before Fenris nodded and folded into one of the chairs at Varric's table.

"Just don't be a sobby drunk, elf. Nothing's worse."

"Very well." He said.

"Nora, Two ales and a pitcher!"

"Sure, sure, Varric. In a moment."

"Don't forget!"

"Of course not, love."

"She's never gotten my order right. I've been living here for years."

"Yet you trust her with your order?"

"Ale is usually her default anyway." Varric shrugged, then after a quiet moment, he sighed, "Up for a round of Wicked Grace?"

"I… have never played."

"That just makes it better, Broody." Varric snarked, "Alright first round is practice, no coin wagered. Just a friendly game… so you can learn the rules… and because I'm a nice guy."

"Why do I get the feeling that my coinpurse will be significantly lighter by the end of the night?"

Very nonchalantly, Varric shrugged, "Maybe you're lacking in confidence?"

Fenris rolled his shoulders, "You are going to cheat, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"Will you teach me that as well?"

Varric raised a brow, "You want to learn to cheat?"

"I know how to cheat. I want to learn how to cheat at this card game of yours."

"I like you more every day, Broody."

With a sigh, "I do not brood."

"If your brooding were any more impressive, my friend, women would swoon at your feet. They'd have broody little babies in your honor, and-"

"Mind if I join in?"

Varric raised a brow at Fenris as a very… well endowed pirate queen sauntered up the steps and into Varric's suite. "That's why you had the feeling your purse would be lighter. I'm suddenly having that feeling as well."

Isabela chuckled, "Wicked Grace?" She made a soft sound, "Oooh I love Wicked Grace." She said, licking her lips, "And wow. Where's your-" At this point, Varric waved his hands frantically for her to stop speaking, but she ignored him. "Sweet little lady friend, Fenris?" She asked, folding her arms just so, so that her already ample bosom nearly erupted from the… dress… she was wearing.

The scowl settled back in on Fenris' face, "She is neither mine, nor here. I do not know where else she might be."

"Did you look for her at home?"

"Yes."

"Market?"

"Yes."

"That healer's clinic in Darktown? I saw him the night Hawke helped him with his little problem, and mmmm. By the Maker!"

Fenris looked at her askance, "What do you mean, woman?"

"I mean he is a delicious hunk of man meat. I'd do him."

"I suspect that it does not take much to qualify for your standards."

She shrugged, "By the way, Fenris, you are… very Lanky. I like Lanky."

"Avert your gaze."

"Already spoken for?" She pouted just a little, "Well, like I said, you lady friend is probably in Darktown, with that… yummy healer… so, maybe you and I could- Wait, where are you going?"

Fenris had stood up, and walked away, storming out Varric's suite, and through the Hanged Man proper. "What did I say?" After a moment, her eyes traveling over the contents of Varric's room on their way back o him, landed on Bianca. "Oooh. Aren't you a beauty. What's her name?"

The Dwarf, with a slight bit of manly pride, introduced the pirate to his beloved crossbow, "Bianca, this is Isabela, former Captain of the _Siren's call_. Isabela, this is Bianca, the most beautiful lady you'll ever meet."

With a tiny grin, Isabela ran a hand down her torso, and called out in a sultry voice, "Oh, Bianca, love, come to me, and I'll take you to places you've never been…"

Varric sighed. "Where the hell's my ale?"

"I think she deserves to feel a woman's touch on her trigger, don't you?"

Uncomfortably, the dwarf chuckled, "Bianca responds to my touch!" Then with a bit of ire, he snapped, "She'd never give it up to you."

The lady licked her lips, eyeing the crossbow like a dog would eye a fat juicy steak. Or the way Tarian eyed a passing cat… Isabela grinned lecherously, "That's what they always say, and I always prove them wrong."

"Stop it! You're confusing her!... and me."

Isabela smirked, and gestured at the table, "Deal us in, big boy."

"Fine, fine, but you already scared off my mark. Fenris' purse was far too heavy tonight."

She pouted, "Perhaps, then you should show me that book you've been writing about him."

"No, no, not about him, about Henris."

The Pirate laughed, "Certainly, 'Henris and Fawke.' Clever. Got a title?"

Varric grinned, "Five sovereigns says you won't guess it."

"Hmmm… Is it dirty?"

"Maybe."

"Something hot?"

Varric made a tisking sound, "Can't tell…"

"Hmmm."

"Give up?"

"Siege harder!"

"No, what? Hard in Hightown. What the hell?"

"I didn't give up! I don't owe you a copper!"

"You are a dirty wench." Varric snorted.

"You can use my title for the sequel."

"I might just do that."

…

_For my Ekocentric, who asked for a little face time with our lusty pirate queen, and some more scenes with our favorite dwarf. :)_


	21. Chapter 21 Avoidance and perceptions

_Quoquo modo victoriam, vitam tibi poena.- Victory at any cost, will cost you your life._

Fantasy, abandoned by reason, produces impossible monsters; united with it, she is the mother of the arts and the origin of marvels.  
Francisco de Goya

Hawke was hiding from her elf. That was the reason she was here, she'd as much as said it. She didn't want to see him. Why? Who cares? Anders most certainly did not. She was beautiful. And an apostate like himself, she had a knack for whatever she put her mind to, it seemed, and that included healing. She didn't agree with his assessment though. "If I were _good_, I could have saved my father."

"It's a rare mage who can heal the Wasting, Hawke." He said, voice low.

"I am a rare mage." She declared, "And I wasn't good enough."

With sympathy, Anders patted her arm. "Here, I can teach you to use herbs. It won't cure it, but..."

"My father is dead, Anders, herbs won't help him where he is."

"Just in case, then. These will cure just about any poison known to man, and if you get hungry, they make a good salad topper."

Rolling her eyes, Hawke took the pouch, and attached it on the inside of her robe. "There, happy?"

"Happy." He agreed.

"Aaaand now I have to ruin the moment."

"I knew this was coming."

"So… you're an abomination."

"I know it seems like that, but it's really not. Justice is a _spirit_ of the fade, not an evil demon."

Hawke sighed, "I've spoken with Demons who don't seem like demons, too, Anders. In fact, I've seen the same Desire demon nightly for years, Opta. And the same Pride demon for almost my entire life. He hasn't told me his name, just Pride. I can't get them to leave me alone."

"Don't suppose it's as simple as killing them?"

"No." She said. "No, it's not."

"Justice isn't a demon." The mage folded his arms, "He's… he was my friend. And he was trapped outside the fade, so, I let him in. He would have died, otherwise. It might have been worse, though, what I did. He's not really my friend Justice anymore… my anger… has warped him. He's vengeance now."

"Right, well, Vengeance certainly isn't a good, happy emotion, now is it? It's more akin to pride and desire than anything good."

The mage blanched at her words, "How can you say that?"

"What? That you were wrong for taking your friend Justice and twisting him into the evil thing living within you?" She shrugged as the male mage's eyes began to light up. His skin seemed to fracture just a bit. "Simple. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. You wanted to help a friend? You failed. What you ended up doing was more hurtful than death would have been."

Anders stepped back, "Why are you…"

"I'm holding a mirror for you. Correct yourself before you become what you seek to destroy- cruel oppression."

"You need to leave, now." He said, his voice harsh and breathy, "Go."

"Very well." She said, "I am not opposed to wise and strong mages being free. I am opposed to stupid desperation being loosed against an unknowing populace. Blood mages and abominations are not acceptable. Quoquo modo victoriam, vitam tibi poena."

As she left Anders, and he slumped to the ground, Justice reminded him, 'Nam si non ego causa mori sum indignus.' Anders repeated the words of affirmation with a weak voice, "If I am unwilling to die for my cause, I am unworthy of it."

Not five minutes later, a snarling elf made his way to where he sat. "Where is she?" He asked, his rough voice shattering the calm Anders had hastiy established.

"I don't know who you are speaking of?"

"Nugatarys," He spat, "Do not lie to me."

"What is a nugatarys?"

The elf sneered, "A trifling little man who thinks that diversionary tactics will serve him well against a broadsword."

"Who are you talking about? Hawke?"

"Yes."

"I sent her away… moments ago. I don't know where she went, hands off."

"If she has come to harm, I will return." The elf turned and stalked out, to continue his search.

In a fit of pettiness, Anders made a face and mimicked Fenris. "Ass."

…

. .

…

"_Where have you been?" He snarled as she appeared before him._

"_Busy, Fenris."_

"_Busy does not equate to a month without sleep, or actively avoiding me during our waking hours."_

_She pursed her lips, "Leave it be."_

"_No." He growled advancing on her, then pushing her into the wall he'd just conjured for the purpose._

"_Leave me alone." She bit back, "Get off."_

_He let his hands drop, but he stayed where he was, hardly inches away from her. "Why?" He asked, voice grating against that ugly thing Varric had awoken nights ago. "Why avoid me? I thought you said you needed… I thought you cared for me?"_

_She looked away from him. "Get away."_

_He begun to boil, but he stepped back. "Tell me." He pleaded. "What has changed?"_

"_A lot." She answered softly. "Go away, Fenris."_

"_No. I promised you that I would stay at your side, and I will not-"_

_She pushed him back, and he stumbled, trembling at the force. She had not used mere physical prowess, she had used magic. The slave in him cowered pitifully, wanted him to beg. He kept his mouth shut just barely, and through the most impressive display of will power. "I said, go."_

_He slunk back a few steps, wounded. "Rae?" He called against his will, "Please."_

_She blinked at him furiously, "Get away from me, Fenris!  
"Just… please, Li'rae, tell me why."_

"_I can't." She snapped. "Now, go."_

_Something about her words soothed him. Bitter and reluctant though they were, there was tenderness. "Li'rae-" He moved toward her, intent on touch, on something- but she hit him with force magic again, and his inner slave wailed at the betrayal, "Why?" He snarled advancing doggedly. "What have I done to make you hate me so?_

"_Nothing."_

_He leveled his gaze inches from hers, "Then explain to me why you make me feel as I do, make promises with your lips and fingertips, ask more of me than I can give, and then, when I finally come to you, when I am ready to weather any _storm_ at your side, when I can fulfill my desire to touch you without fear, why do you then you push me away as roughly as trash. Do you wish me to beg?"_

_Something of tenderness crept into her eyes, "Never."_

_He pressed his hands against her face, and claimed her mouth with his own. He let the pleasure course over him like fire, and light his core, "Rae." He growled against her lips, "Why?"_

_She shuddered, "Fenris, I-"_

_Footsteps echoed across the fade, as a large pride demon appeared. "Well, hello." It said, "You are a difficult one to track, small wolf."_

_Fenris' eyes widened._

"_Lady Pride." Li'rae called softly, "How goes it?"_

_The female demon swivvled her head to level a glare at Hawke. "Well, if it isn't the lady mage." She said mock bowing. "What brings you to my neck of the Fade?"_

"_Sleep." She answered._

"_Ahh, yes, of course. Well, I have business with this dreamer, so-"_

"_No, you do not. Fenris is not a toy, and he is not a bargaining chip."_

"_I made a deal with his master. He will return, or I will not be able to claim my prize."_

"_You will not be able to claim that prize, Lady Pride."_

"_Perhaps I could bargain with you for him then? I have many creatures under my command, many handsome things with no baggage, no foolish fears… I could trade you."_

_Fenris looked to Li'rae in horror. Her face was passive, "He is not for sale." She said flatly._

"_Everything is for sale, sweet." The demon purred, "And everything has a price."_

"_Not him." She snapped, "And not me."_

"_Then there is nothing for it, but to fight."_

"_I suppose you're surprised." Li'rae chided, "I'm not." She threw a mountain of ice upon the large, melted demon, and then, without further ado, she swung a mighty blow into the creature's face, punctuated it with a fist of rock, and a burning storm. "Never threaten my friends." She said as she raised the beast up and slammed it down, shattering it into a thousand shards. Then, she gazed at Fenris, "Good morning." She said just as she disappeared._

…

. .

…

When he awoke, he had a tightness in his chest, made of anger and residual pain. She had attacked him. He knew… he remembered her hitting him. She had been angry. Magic. A demon. His chest constricted to the point he could hardly breathe. She had attacked him with magic. There may have been a demon involved. He named the feeling he was assailed with "Betrayal."


	22. Chapter 22 Distance

In the quiet dawn, Li'rae sat within the shadow of a tall building overlooking the bay. The chains. She tried to calm herself. Tried to breathe, but with each breath she took, her gut knotted more tightly, clenching til it was a sharp, shooting pain. "Can't do this." She snapped. Thirteen sovereigns. Good progress. It'd been less than a week. Still, not enough. "Maker, I'm not handling this well." She grumbled, "C'mon, Rae." She said, dragging herself to her feet. "Have to make more coin, or…" Their dinner last night had been pitiful. Cold stale biscuits, a bit of meat and some scrawny carrots. Mother's kind face was much too thin. Bethany was worried. Carver accused. Gamlen was unaware. She shook herself away from such thoughts. She was doing all that she could. Taking every dirty job and trying as hard as she could to make the best of it… but something had soured.

If she had been willing to tell the truth, she might have said she missed someone. Their last meeting had been difficult. Distancing. Yes, for a reason… she could hardly remember what it had been. A half remembered true dream invaded by malicious presences which tempted and tore at her, whispering a question and his name. Information, and an end to pain. Promises, promises. She had refused. Absolutely, had woken herself, but she'd felt the residue of some sort of spell lingering about the dustier corners of her mind. She resolved to keep away from him. And then the Fade fighting… had made everything so much worse. "Balls." She grumbled, "Apologize?" She shook her head, he wouldn't forgive her for what she'd done. Pushing him away had only done so much, so she'd turned to magic in a panic, knowing that if they separated, he would be safer… then the lady Pride came, and it was all for naught.

She fisted her hair and growled to herself. She was missing something. Something obvious. She paced, mind running over the information she had… which amounted to nothing in reality. And then a truth resolved its self. She had attacked her friend. Not hurt, but surely harmed. Fenris hated mages in the best of times, but they had been making progress in the waking world. In the fade, they had bonded. "Shit." She said, stopping. "I attacked a man who was abused by mages his whole life with magic." She rubbed her face roughly, aware of her appearance. Dark circles from not sleeping, or sleeping poorly. Mussed hair from… running her hands through it. Her robes were in a disarray. She hated them anyway. Stupid mage uniform is what they were. She looked into her personal purse, an allowance for food and repairs. Six silvers and twelve coppers. If she could get a blouse and a pair of trousers she'd be happy. Hell, a tunic and a pair of trousers. So long as they were functional… She scratched her ear. Or… a peace offering for Fenris? What would that man like? Cookies wouldn't work like they used to. She found herself wandering around the Lowtown bazaar hours later, sifting through rubbish, until her hands fell upon a book under which was a eight by eleven inch painting of a jungle, and a seafront. The caption read, 'Seheron's winds'. Looking more closely, she could see that the trees were painted to seem as though they were moving in a high wind. She couldn't make much out of the sea though… or anything else. "Ser?" She called to the red headed lass who minded the store, "Is this really Seheron?"

"Eh? She leaned over, "Says so, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, but I've a… friend who could tell me true. He was born there."

"My pa painted that on a trip a decade ago, messer. It's Seheron, alright."

"How much do you want for it? I'll give you a silver."

Her brow quirked, "A silver? That's all you deem it worth?"

"You're in Lowtown, the artist isn't knowable, and it was buried. My guess; you think it worth less."

She considered for a long moment, then she said, "Fine. You've got a deal."

She pulled the coin from her purse with care, and handed it over. "Ya know, if you didn't bring me all sorts of valuable trinkets I'd not let that go so cheaply."

"Then I'm glad I sell to you, ser. Thank you for the picture."

"You're welcome, messer."

Li'rae bowed her head, and with the painting under her arm, she made her way, heavy with trepidation, to Fenris' abode.

…

The weight of his blade was comfortable as he swung it with practiced ease, circling and dancing through his routine. He wasn't graceful naturally, but he did work hard to make it appear so. After a long time, sweating, he broke from routine, and tried a new sequence, and shed his breast plate. He jumped, fluidly turning and bringing his weapon down before his body. Then he heard it. A slight scuffling outside the door. He lunged for his armor, strapping it on, and landing on his feet without seconds lost. Then there was a knock. What enemy would knock before entering?

"Fenris?" A muffled voice he knew too well, which echoed in greater familiarity within his mind, called to him.

That answered his question.

"What do you want, Hawke?" His voice was harsh.

"Can I come in? I look silly talking to the door of a supposedly abandoned mansion."

Fenris sighed, and said that he would allow it. Li'rae entered with hesitation. "Hey."

He frowned at her, noticing the changes. She looked almost as bad as he'd felt before coming to Kirkwall. "What do you want, Hawke?"

She took a deep breath, and held out a small, boxed object.

"What do I want with that?"

"It's… an apology. Probably a poor one."

He sneered at her, "Certainly a poor one."

"I… I'm sorry."

"You should be." He said, folding his arms. "What is in the box?"

"A present. Frivolous, maybe, but it reminded me of you, and…" She gestured upstairs, "Can we sit? I've an explanation, to go along with the apology and present, and I'm willing to-" Fenris held up a hand, and swept it toward his room.

"Save it for when we are sitting, Hawke."

"Right." She said, nervously, marching forward as he fell in step behind her. Her body language seemed contrite, but she could be faking.

As they entered the room, Hawke lit the fire magically, causing him to cringe and step back. She pretended not to notice, as she sat, and laid the 'present' upon his table. "Care for some wine?" He asked, falling back into the old pattern so easily.

"Sure. I could definitely use a drink right now."

Fenris nodded, "So could I." As he strode downstairs to grab a bottle of anything to soothe his nerves, and something else for her. When he returned she was wringing her hands, staring at the fire.

He looked at the labels, pretending to know the words stamped upon them, but really reading the picture. "Orlesian." He said, tossing a bottle to her.

"A very good year, too." She said admiringly, "Right, open the package first, or-"

He waved off her words, and did as she asked. It was light. Obviously thin, there was wood on the outside and something more like parchment in the center. "Painting? Portrait? Map?" He murmured, opening it.

When it was uncovered, his mouth dropped open. It was different. The sand was off color, but he knew those rocks, and in the distance, he could just make out Par Vollen's shores. He examined more closely, tracing the line of the water on the beach, the line of sand against jungle. "Seheron." He said quietly.

Hawke noticed that the paper still covered the title, and, pleased, she said, "I thought… well, I hoped it might make you feel less homesick."

He glanced at her, sure that she was back to mocking him, that she was going to say something, do something to ruin this. He tried to summon that ugly feeling into his voice, he desired to remind her of the damage she'd done… but he couldn't. "I… do not know what to say."

"I'd be happy if you said you'd listen to me. Maybe forgive me, but I don't expect that, I just… want you not to hate me. I'm sorry, Fenris."

He frowned at her, "I'll listen. You owe me an explanation."

So the story spilled from her lips, like something spoiled. Every dirty detail of whatever had clung to her, which might even cling there still, though she'd done her best to rid herself of it. Afterward, he stood holding the painting, and set it into the wall beside his bed. "Danarius knows where I am. Why did you think that's staying away from me would keep me safe?"

"I…" Her mind flattened, "I just… I didn't want to give him any information on you. I didn't-"

He silenced her with a glance. "Let him come. I will not run from him again."

"I know." She said, quietly.

"Good. Perhaps you will think more carefully in the future."

"I will."

"Good." He hesitated, "I need to ask, and I know you will be offended… so be it. Have you made a deal with a demon?"

Her eyes widened, and she seemed to withdraw from him. He had hurt her, as he'd expected. He found he felt no remorse for it, "No!"

"None at all? No!"

"I am satisfied with your word, however, I will be watching you."

A second passed, and she smiled, "That means you'll be coming with me on quests?"

He nodded seriously, and then flattened, irritated against the wall… well he tried to be irritated, but she had pressed herself against him, and her face was wet, nuzzling his neck. He shifted his weight awkwardly until she let go. "Right. No hugs. You're still mad. It's OK. I'm just so glad you forgave me, I- Fenris, I thought you'd leave."

"And go where?" He asked, "To what allies?" Then he heaved a sigh, "And beside that, I swore… I'd protect you. I can't remember when, but-"

She kissed him.

"Damnation, woman, get off!"

She giggled, and stepped back, "Sorry, it's difficult. You are one very yummy elf."

"You- stop it! You do that on purpose!" He accused, face hot.

In response, she smiled beneath her eyelashes, and pursed her lips, "I'd say I was sorry, but I recall promising you that I would tell you no lies."

For a long quiet moment they stood there together, drinking their respective wines, then Fenris walked over to his bed and sat down. "I need to rest." He said. "Go home Hawke, and sleep well."

Her features twisted, but she complied, trudging out of the mansion. He put his head into his hands and growled. His chest tightened. Things were strained. He was strained. He didn't feel as wary of her as he had that morning, but still, he was uncomfortable. Her choice to attack him lay between the two heavily. It stabbed at his memories of her, making her foreign, or else, far too familiar. He spent the last moments before sleep remembering Hadriana's attacks. Abuses.

In his mind, for a moment, their faces blurred, and they hit him together, with magic as painful as it was impossible to defend against. His mind reeled. His body spasmed. He stood up, and opened another bottle of wine. Drunken stupors did not refresh the body as did true sleep, but one would be a welcome reprieve from the way his mind warped a woman he admired into one he despised.


	23. Chapter 23 Making a Point

It had been an awkward couple of weeks. Fenris did not go out of his way to avoid Rae, but then he didn't seem to be going anywhere, except when she came to haunt his mansion in search of reconciliation. Then he was mysteriously absent. It wasn't every night. Not a certain day or time, just random seeming coincidences. Similar coincidences had happened before, in the Fade. Now, he kept different hours of sleep, and if he did happen to meet her on the paths of the Fade, he left her quickly for the Waking world. Li'rae almost suspected that he had some control over it, except that she knew even Mages couldn't wake themselves from their dream walking.

When they did meet, few words were exchanged as she tried to steel herself to say the right thing… well she never quite got there.

"What now, Sister?" Carver asked as he opened the porch door to find his sister distressed- nothing new there- pacing hurriedly, murmuring something under her breath about baking soda.

"I- what? Carver! What? It's dawn?"

"Yes, sister." He said, "What… are you alright?" He asked in an awkwardly uncharacteristic way. Tender, some might have called it. He placed a hand on her shoulder, "Rae?" His voice was hushed, brushing over her ears like something soft and warm. "Come back to me, sister."

Her eyes found his. Concerned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You look like hell." He said simply, "And you're muttering."

"Mutter- look, I can't remember the recipe-"

"Rae, that's not all. You've been acting strangely for… well for a long time. You're getting on my nerves."

"Ah, there's my charming little brother." She laughed.

"Tell me the truth. Who broke your heart?"

"What? My heart is most certainly not broken, and frankly, it's offended at the insinuation."

"Frankly, I've never seen you so twisted up. Was it the elf or the mage? Isabela thinks it was the Mage because you're with him so often, but Varric says-"

"Is this about some stupid bet? I'm so tired of everyone betting about-"

"Damn it girl, this is about your ass brother trying to look out for you." He snapped, "I know… Look I know. It's me, Rae Rae. You've always been the one to look out for all of us. Hell, you saved my ass from that Ogre… and the Coterie… and the Carta… and the Madame of the Blooming Rose… and-"

"Bethany when you turned her new pink dress green."

"Yeah… she would have killed me!" He chuckled, "It would still have been worth it… Anyway, it's me. I know you, sis. You look out for…. Yeah. Well… and nobody really looks out for you. So if some ass hat hurt you-"

She hugged him. "I love you." She said, her breath shaking as she sighed, and he stiffened in mortified terror, "No one broke my heart… I think… what do you do when…" She pulled back, "I… can I ask you something you will most certainly hate me for asking without you hating me?" The tenderness in her voice and tears in her eyes paralyzed him, he couldn't say no, as he longed to, he couldn't say yes either, but he nodded. "If someone you… cared for a lot hurt you… used what they knew about your worst fears to hurt you… what would you do?"

His eyes darkened, and he bristled, "Kill him."

"Her." Li'rae said sadly.

"Her? You?"

"Yeah."

"Damn. Elf or apostate?"

"Does it matter?" She snapped.

"Well, yeah." He snapped back, "The apostate is at least… well, I don't know if I'd say stable, but… hell approachable?"

"It's not Anders."

"Damn elf." He growled under his breath. "He'll probably run."

"He told me he would stay." She said almost confident.

"I don't know him… but if I thought the only person I cared about was going to go all abominationey on me, I'd leave."

Li'rae pursed her lips together angrily, "He said he wouldn't."

"Then where is he?"

"Damn it, Carver! Can't you just be-" She growled, "Comforting for once?! Just say, 'It'll be alright, Rae.' Lie if you have to, I just need someone who can say those damn words!" She stormed off in a huff.

"Women." Carver shrugged. "'Don't lie to me, Carver.' She says, all my life, now it's 'Lie if you have to.'" He shook his head. "There's no pleasing her."

…

In spite of himself, Carver had , in fact, helped. Her resolve bristled against her wait and see resolution. She found herself at his doorstep before she realized she was in hightown. She let herself into his mansion, and announced herself only when she stood at the doorway to his room. "Fenris?" She peeked inside, but surprise of surprises, he wasn't there. The fire, however was lit, and there was food on the table, so she sat down. "I can wait all night, Fenris." She called out.

He walked into the room from an entrance she hadn't known about, rubbing his hair with a towel. "Hello, Li'rae." He said wearily, "Do you need something?"

"Yeah." Now that he stood before her… his hair was wet- er that is, now that he stood before her, she lost some of her nerve. "Where have you been?"

"Today?"

"Sure,"

"I was scouting the city, listening to what the people say about… me." He finished lamely. It was an obvious lie, but his eyes dared her to call him on it.

"What were you really doing?"

"Dancing!" He said. "Come Hawke, you didn't come here for an interrogation. If you have a job, out with it."

"Hawke?" She frowned, "Fenris, please-"

He waved his hand, "Slip of the tongue, Li'rae. Eat something. You look… thinner."

"Are you going to sit here and pretend that nothing's changed? That you haven't been avoiding me, and-" She stood up, "Oh, you are infuriating-" He grabbed her arm and pulled her too him. "Let go."

"No." He growled. "I am going to pretend that nothings changed, and so are you. Eventually, things will return to normal, and we can get on with our lives."

"That's not how things work in the real world Fenris."

He jerked her back, "Then tell the poor slave how things work."

"Andraste's pokedotted pantaloons, man! Why does everything come back to that, with you?"

"Why have you been spending so much time with Anders?"

"Fenris-"

"Woman, Why?"

"Because he understands what it's like to have everyone, think you're a monster. That's what I meant." Fenris let go of her, and she took a few steps to the side, "Fenris…"

The white haired elf turned around and sat beside his fire. Stirring the embers. "I can not… help the what I am."

"Was." She said. "I never knew Fenris the slave. I knew Fenris the dreamer, and I know Fenris the man." She leaned carefully against the table.

"Am. And you do know Fenris the slave." He snapped.

"Is this about what Flemeth said when-"

"No! This is about the chains in my skin! This is about the magic staining my soul… This is about Danarius, and Hadrianna, and a life I may have had that I no longer remember!" He whirled around, "They can not see that you are a mage, Rae. When they look at you, they see your beautiful eyes. Your graceful neck, and long, lovely hair… They see your breasts and hips, and legs… perhaps whatever weapons you wear… but they do not see your magic. Anyone with eyes can see the marks of my enslavement. Anyone with eyes knows what I am."

"Do you know what I see?"

"Me."

"I see _your_ beautiful eyes. Your sunkissed skin. Your broad shoulders, and chest. I see your strong arms, and ready wit. Your skill. Your intelligence and your passion." She touched his cheek. "What chains, my friend?"

"The markings." He spat.

"Are nothing but bits of glowing metal. They chain you to nothing." He shook his head, about to speak, but she touched his lips, "I swear to you, I will not allow Danarius or Hadrianna to chain you again. You have my life, my loyalty, and my friendship. They will not have you. I would die first. You have my word. My promise of assistance. You are not theirs. You are yours."

"Thank you." He said. "For the kind words. I… will cherish the sentiment."

"I'd rather you reveled in the actuality, but I suppose…" She smiled as he smirked.

"I've taken up too much of your time." Fenris complained.

"Never, Fenris. Come on. I have something for us to do, and… I need your advice on an adorably ditsy and dangerous/dalish problem I've acquired."

"That was far too many 'd' sounds." Fenris shook his head.

"You're going to be angry."

He frowned at her.

"Yes, at me."

He closed his eyes, "Ditsy dangerous dalish." Running a hand over his head, Fenris sighed in exasperation. "Please tell me you haven't collected another idiot."

"I…"

"Why is he dangerous?"

"Er… she. Is… a… bloodmage."

"Venhedis! Vishante Kaffar! What are you thinking?" He took her by the shoulders, "She will be the death of you!"  
"Fenris… she's so… she doesn't understand what she's doing. She needs someone to help her."

"What?!" He barked, "You wish to save a Malifecarum?"

"I wish to save a girl with big green eyes and more love for her people than sense in her head!" She challenged. "Malifecarum are only those mages who use their powers against the Maker's children. So far, it's only been her blood…" Li'rae sighed, "She can still be saved."

"Not everything is worth the effort. One slip! One realization that more blood equals more power and she will be tearing the throats from all of Kirkwall!"

"Not every mage succumbs to Demons, Fenris!"

"That one already has!"

"There are some who say it was the Elves who first taught humans of blood magics, not Demons!"

"Those some are either liars or fools! Where, think you, did the Elvhes of Arlathan learn the dread art?"

"Merril is worth the effort." She said stubbornly, "She's sweet and kind and lost. I won't abandon her."

"She isn't yours to care for."

"Yes, she is. So are Bethy, and Carver. So are Varric and Anders. So are Isabela and Aveline. So are You!"  
Silence crept between them like a wedge, physically driving them apart. Fenris stepped back, "I am not your responsibility."

"I would die if anything happened to you, Fenris. It would kill me if Beth or Carver were hurt. Varric and Anders and Isabela would break my heart… I'm all wrapped up in you. All of you. You could tear me to pieces." She clenched her fists, "And there isn't a damn thing I can do to change that. We spoke of chains earlier." Under her breath she added, "It seems like chains are all we ever speak of…" Then loudly again, she said, "When you came to me, here in Kirkwall, you made me a promise of protection. You told me you thought yourself foolish for making that promise because of what I've done… who I am. You bound yourself to me willingly." She said, pressing. "Well, I did the same. You, Bethy, Carver, Varric, and all the others. You are all my friends. My chains are willingly forged, but they are there. Merril… Merril is what I would be if I hadn't had my father. Merril is who I could be if I lose myself."

Fenris closed the gap between them, growling, "No!" He said, crushing her shoulders with his hands, "I would not allow it."

"Why not?" She snapped. "What am I to you but a reminder of your past? A mage that will someday sour and then you will be proven right about all of us! If your word is the only thing holding you here, then I'll break it for you!"

"Stop it!" He barked, "You are mine!"

"Yours, am I?" She barked back. "Prove it!"

"You are here." He said evenly. His grip softening. He lifted a hand to her cheek and wiped away a tear she hadn't realize she'd let loose.

"I'm here." She said, "Yeah. I am. Where are you?"

"Before you." He said leaning close, brushing his forehead against hers.

"If you ever put me through another three weeks of that again, I'll never bring you another cookie."

He smiled. "Understood. Where do we go today?"

"You won't like it."

"How many times can you say that in one day?

…

To her credit, she was not wrong. Fenris was furious. Fuming even as they traipsed about, through Lowtown muck, and onto the wounded coast. "Why do we keep coming here?" Varric asked, "Seriously, this place is terrible."

"Agreed, my short beardless friend."

"We keep coming here because we need coin and raiders love to do their dirty deeds out here."

"And Hawke is a sop."

"I am not, Anders."

"You are so, every sad face-"

"You should be happy, she is saving a Mage's life."

"He's an elf. We should both be happy, Fenris. He's one of our people."

"He's not my people, Dalish. He is simply a person. One I care nothing for, especially considering we are doing this pro bono."

"But… you're an elf. He's an elf."

"And I suppose that makes us brothers?" He snapped, "Shut your mouth, ignorant witch!"

Merril's eyes went round and her lip trembled, "I don't like you anyways." She said sadly.

"Don't worry Daisy. He's always like that."

"Why should that make me feel better? Hawke, why do you keep him around?"

"I like him." She said.

"But he's so unpleasant, and it looks as though he never smiles, and-"

"He smiles." Hawke said, smiling. "And he is quite pleasant at times."

Varric snorted, "Bono… Hah!"

"Oooh… I missed something. When is he pleasant?"

Varric chuckled, "When they're alone, Daisy."

"Is that meant to be dirty?"

"Oh yes." He chortled, as Anders looked on in disgust.

"How could she-"

"Ladies and gentlemen. Shut up. That is all." Hawke said stopping them before the entrance of the cave. She then pointed inside, "Let's be clear. There is a boy in there. I don't care about his race, or his magical affinity. He needs help. I won't stand idly by. Are you with me?"

The general consensus was yes, of course. And they dove into the cave, killing raiders and slavers alike. After they saved the boy, sending him to the Dalish, where he would be trained properly, in theory, both Anders and Merril were skipping, they were so happy at the outcome. Fenris was still conflicted, and Varric just looked proud of himself. "Love child… Oh me. Henris… Henris should have a love child…"

"Who is Henris, Varric?"

"A very broody elf who is forced by his taciturn nature and hate for magic, to keep his distance from the lovely mage called Fawke. Circumstances, however, will not leave well enough alone." He shook his head, "They're a very… active couple. Though they aren't technically together. You understand, Daisy?"

"No." She said, "Though I do enjoy hearing the story anyway, Varric. Thank you."


	24. Chapter 24 Not the one about Henris and

_So, it's been a while, yeah I know. I have no excuse except that the story stopped being fun. I didn't enjoy it. Burnt out maybe, whatever the reason, it'd kinda taken over my nights. I was working late- til two or three am, and then doing the story before going to bed. It got to be too much. Sorry it took so long for me to come back to it, and to those who are still reading, thank you. :) As of now, I've started a new playthrough in DAII, and am for the first time, being grumpy-Hawke. It's quite different. _

...

"VARRIC!" Hawke bellowed clutching a small stack of papers she'd gathered from a tabletop in the Hanged Man. The smell of old beer, vomit and shame permeated the room. Also the stares. Each person had been staring and whispering since she entered the room. "VARRIC!"

"Andraste's tits, Hawke, what-" The dwarf had come running, holding Bianca at the ready. As soon as he saw her, he noted the papers. "Ah, that. You read it?" He asked trying to cover up a smirk.

"What do you think?" She spat.

"I think you're overreacting. Making a scene. Too bad Broody isn't here, that would drive my sales-" He caught the murderous glare, "Ah, er ahm. I meant that's not about you, Hawke. It's about lady Fawke, Totally different person. I shit you not."

"Varric…" She growled stepping forward papers clenched and balled in her fists. "That is going to get me noticed, and him too." She threw the wad of dirty fiction at him. As quick as you could blink, he'd fired Bianca and a bolt had nailed the ball of paper to the ceiling. "Oh nice sho- No. Varric, you have to stop this ridiculous serial. I cannot have you printing that trash about me or my affairs!"

"Although…" Isabela purred as she sauntered into the room, "The bit on page seven…" She pulled out the page 7, 'As his passions climaxed, he took her in his arms and together they burned up the night.' That was particularly …delightful." She winked at the dwarf on her way down for her morning grog. "I expect you-"

"Isabela." Hawke warned with a glare. "Not now."

"-r passions would be particularly potent if you had a such a… delicious elf to ignite them."

Hawke closed her eyes, "You are to stop printing! No More. Do you hear me? Write about Aveline, or Isabela, Not Me. Do you hear me?" She turned about and slammed the tavern's door on the way out.

Just as she left the bar, she heard Varric shout his reply. "It's about FAWKE not HAWKE!" She growled. Her life was now an erotic novel. Granted, most of Lowtown couldn't read, and Hightowners wouldn't, but still. Li'rae rubbed her face, and went back to her family's current… home. As she entered, her mother folded her arms, "Well?"

"Taken care of, mother." She said in a voice that, she hoped, would conclude the issue.

"Is it? Or is it the truth with mixed names?" Li'rae's blush returned, and she turned back to her mother.

"I promise you, there has been no passion burning nights. The only times I've touched Fenris, were to heal him, or pat him on the back."

"Is that some sort of double entendre?"

"Mother!" she snapped, mortified, "No! Maker's breath, woman. " She backed out of the house, livid at Varric, and hoping to the Maker that Fenris hadn't seen it. After all, it could only make things more awkward. "Think I'll take a walk." She grumbled and jogged off. Before she'd rounded two corners she found herself faced with three men and a dog. She placed a hand on her daggers, carefully extracting them, making a bit of a show of it too. "Hello." She said carefully, "And goodbye. I have business."

"You killed my boy." One of the men said harshly, he was Ferelden. It was clear by the Mabari at his side and the accent in his voice. "Javen was just trying to make a living for our family, and you killed him."

"The only men I've killed, Serrah, were men who stood between me and the safety of my family." She pulled her blades free of their sheathe. "Please don't make me add you to the list."

"You would say that!" The second man snapped, pointing a sword, "You would kill my brother in cold blood, then say it was his fault! Kill 'er Bandris!" The dog's ears flicked up and his teeth bared, at his master's command.

Li'rae didn't relish the idea of taking on a Mabari without her companions or her magic, but it was broad daylight, and there were too many places people could look to see her from. She swung her blades quickly, then threw a flashbomb into the animal's face, before flipping over it, and taking the old man by the throat, "Call it off, or your father dies." She said quietly. "I'd rather not have this go any further."

The younger man eyed her nervously but the older man was still. "You could kill me, serrah Hawke. You could kill me and my son. But I doubt you could kill the both of us and the hound. Javen was a good lad. I'd die to avenge him."

"And you will if you're not careful." Li'rae said, "Don't make me kill another good man." She plead. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Merrill climbing the stairs from the Alienage. She made an 'Oh' with her mouth then slowly drew her staff. "Please do not make me kill a Mabari and two good men." She said loudly so that Merrill would work out that she was trying not to turn this into a blood bath.

The old man sniffed, but said nothing. The younger one said, "What about mom. If we die…"

"If you die, who has she got in a town of Marchers? Who has she got, eh? We're all Ferelden. I'd not kill my countrymen if I had a choice."

"Fine. Bandris." He gave a hand sign for quit, and the dog relaxed a bit, its teeth still bared as its family was still in danger.

"What are you doing, boy?"

"I'm not going to risk it. Mother would die without us."

Hawke released the old man, though she raised her dagger before her, and eyed the pair as the son dragged his father away. "Oh that was close, Hawke. I thought they'd have-"

"But they didn't, and that's what matters." She said with a smile. "Care for a stroll, Merril?"

The dalish elf nodded and smiled, "That would be lovely." After a moment the pair began to stroll down the stairs, trotting by way of the markets. "So, were you coming to see me? Earlier, I mean."

"Actually yes. I have a lead on a job. We'll be tracking down a man who escaped from prison. Simple enough, except the city guard refuses to go in without backup."

The elf nodded, "Who else shall we bring with us, Hawke?" She asked, as though it were a walk through the park rather than a jaunt along the wounded coast.

"I'll get back to you on that. We'll be going tomorrow morning, so be ready."

"Alright, Hawke. Oh, I hope Varric will be coming, maybe we could have him tell us a story on the way… you know, to pass the time."

Li'rae sighed, "As long as it's not the one about Henris and Fawke."

"Oh, I've heard that one!"


	25. Chapter 25 Memories

_A gust of wind bowed the trees of a great sweeping plain. Before him lay many a body. Human, Dwarf, Elf. Each body had fallen to its knees and begun to worship. Pride knew true pleasure at the sight. "I love the sight of humans on their knees." He said with a toothy grin, as he became aware of a small, soft presence behind him. He looked over his shoulder and smiled wider, "Why, Bethy. How do you do this fine evening?"_

"_Well enough, Pride. Where is my sister?"_

"_Nowhere to be found, I'm afraid." He purred, returning his eyes to his own now-not-so-private fantasy. "Isn't it beautiful?" He asked rhetorically._

"_For the first and hopefully last time, no. I don't find the sight of a thousand-"_

"_Million." It corrected. "I counted."_

"_Million people bowing to a demon at all pleasing. Excuse me." She said moving away cautiously._

"_Well, Bethy… that was rude."_

"_I'm not generally in the habit of being kind to demons." She said over her shoulder as she walked away."_

"_Perhaps you should reconsider that practice, little Mage." He quipped, suddenly before her. Bethany gasped a bit and stood stock-still. "Not every demon is as forgiving as Pride."_

"_Forgiving?" Another voice sounded, along with very pointed footsteps. "Of course Pride forgives. Especially considering the fact that you value my conversation. If you harmed my baby sister, Pride, I can assure you, I would not be as forgiving as Pride… wait! You're not my usual Pride demon!" Li'rae said indignantly, stepping from wakefulness as from her bedroom into the foyer. "I suppose we'll need to fight now." She said rolling up her sleeves, and bracing herself, dramatically. "Oh wait, I'm a mage." She pulled fire from the air and pointed a finger, "Go away, Lady Pride."_

"_Oh, but I have a proposition for you, lady Hawke."_

"_I can assure you, I will not have any deals. I'm rather stubborn that way."_

"_Yes, Pride does say that, about you." The large melty-skinned female turned to Bethany. "And you? Would you be so stubborn if you knew that one word from you could bring your father back?"_

"_As a creepy pride corpse. No thanks." Bethany said._

"_See. The Hawke girls will have no deals."_

"_And what of your swarthy skinned warrior?"_

_Hawke smiled, "He probably hates you more than I do."_

"_But if I offered the power to destroy-"_

"_I'd kill you." Li'rae said seriously. "And Pride would be cross with me for destroying his lady friend so utterly. Does that sound like a profitable arrangement?"_

"_I heard someone speaking about me…" Pride said, striding toward them confidently. "Ah, my dear Hawke."_

"_Hello Pride. Your lady friend here seems not to understand the finer points of 'leave me alone'. I think she might be related to Desire."_

_Pride snorted, then looked at his female counterpart, "I can assure you, she has little skill in the area of lust." A glance at the female pride would reveal nothing more of a reaction than the slight tightening of the gooy looking skin about her eyes. _

"_Apparently the area of Pride as well. She's been tempting us with power, and returning my Father from the dead."_

"_Ooh… I appreciate you not killing her."_

"_You're welcome." Hawke said flatly. "Now, you may wish to tutor her on the finer points of how to interact with a Hawke."_

_The male demon bowed then turned to oblige, "Rule one: Family is off limits. Rule two: Never try the same thing more than…. Three times. Rule three: No means leave." He then moved toward his female quicker than a breath, and hit her. "Rule four: I have been cultivating a relationship with Li'rae Hawke for twenty years. If anyone is going to deal with a Hawke, it will be me." She stumbled back several steps, wincing in pain. "Rule five: My warnings apply to you just as much as desire, anger and sloth.." He growled._

"_Are you so certain?" She glowered._

"_Oh yes."_

_The female smoldered for a moment, before turning away, and disappearing. "Adieu, Hawkes. I have a contract to reaffirm."_

"_Of course, Pride. Enjoy your evening."_

"_I shall try." He winked… well, she thought he did. She couldn't really see his other eye, so he might have simply blinked. With that, however, he bowed and vanished._

"_Bethany?"_

"_I'm alright." She said quietly, shrugging off the intense feeling of anxiety. "Anyway, sister…" Her eyes wandered, then drooped. "Why am I so…" She staggered, looking around, "You feel that?" She asked slowly._

"_Languor is the name…" Spoke the slow gravely voice of a demon, "Sloth is the game."_

"_That's new." Hawke mused, feeling her body tire._

"_I know you're tired, Li'rae… so very tired of carrying-"_

"_Demon, one more word and you will feel the brunt of my blade." Languor stiffened as an unexpected party joined them. Fenris. _

"_Tired of running, aren't you?" He tried his luck._

_Just then a great flash of light muddled the shadowy consistency of the shade, right about where a heart might be a person. The creature dropped away in a whisp, and before them stood Fenris, a great scowl upon his face. He did not say anything for a moment… then he looked to the sisters. "Rae. Bethy."_

_Bethany grinned, "That was quite an entrance."_

"_I do like to make an impression."_

_Li'rae smiled tentatively. This would be the first time meeting in the fade since she'd… well, since she'd mussed everything up._

"_Oh, look at me, here, a third wheel. Now I know how Carver feels." Bethany chuckled. "I think I'll just go over there…" She said as she ambled off, imagining into existence large bushy privacy hedges, and a pair of ear muffs. _

_Fenris coughed then moved nervously from foot to foot, flicking from his eyes, a strand of dark hair. "It seems she believes we will have a dramatic encounter." He observed._

"_Well, Bethy always thinks our encounters awkward, so…" She took a step forward, to bridge the distance between them. "Did I say," She coughed, "How sorry I am…?"_

"_You did not."_

"_I am. I'm sorry." She said, "I made a huge mistake."_

"_Indeed. But I believe I have already forgiven you."_

_Rae took another step forward, then reached out toward his face, stopping short of touching. She stopped because she was unsure of herself. No need to wonder why. He coughed and looked around, "You have been popular of late." He observed, "Perhaps your pet- your… acquaintance Pride has lost the intimidating edge he had before." After a moment, she withdrew the proffered touch and looked around._

_She smirked, "Might be." She then formed a rather familiar beach. The same one they'd played on before. She changed her attire carefully, then set her staff aside- it fell into dust, ready and waiting to be reformed at a moment's notice. "Care for a stroll?" She looked up and took note of the black city. It was so far that definition was impossible to discern, but close enough that one might see the spires of the tallest towers. "The Chantry in Tevinter… what do they say about the Golden city?"_

"_I wouldn't know. Slaves are not invited to mass."_

"_Sorry."_

"_You meant no offense." Fenris said cordially, closing the distance when he realized that she would not. He touched her shoulder tentatively, "I wouldn't put much stock in the Tevene chantry in any case, as it is run exclusively by Magisters."_

"_Of course." She said, "I was just curious about how they justified forcing the taint upon the world."_

_He shrugged, "They are magisters. They don't believe they need to justify themselves to anyone."_

_Li'rae nodded, "I was just remembering… the Blight."_

_Fenris stiffened as he remembered that she had lost much to the blight. An entire life. "I… am sorry for you. I cannot imagine what it must be like."_

"_It's over." She shrugged, trying to get rid of the memories. "Doesn't matter anyway."_

_Fenris frowned, trying to recall something of the Tevinter version of the Chant, "I do not know what the Black Divine's version of the chant actually says, but perhaps it goes like this; 'And lo, the greatest of magisters ventured into the Maker's city. To reward them for their courage, He created the darkspawn; a scourge against their enemies, and anyone who might stand against their might.'"_

"_Fools."_

"_Indeed." Fenris replied as he moved his hand from her shoulder to her hair. The mage had beautiful hair. With some trepidation, he cast away the armor on his hands, and arms, with a thought. He then took hold of a lock and allowed it to lay in his hand. "Lovely…" He murmured. "Li'rae, I think we…" His voice stilled in his throat, but his intention hadn't been much of talk anyway. He let the hair fall, then turned her face with his hand, he leaned in, noticing that she was hardly breathing, he backed away a step, took her hand, and kissed her knuckles. "That walk you spoke of…?"_

_Hawke let out a short breath, then nodded and started walking, her hand still clutched in his, "We have a quest tomorrow, Fenris. Something about bringing in a convicted criminal."_

"_Oh? You wish me to come?"_

"_Of course! You're my favorite broadsword carrying elf!"_

"_I believe I am the only one you know."_

"_Right."_

"_I also believe you promised me the title of 'favorite broadsword wielder ever' as I'd recently deposed your brother."_

"_I did say that, didn't I?"_

_He chuckled, "You did."_

"_Well then, all the more reason for you to come."_

_He inclined his head, "You will likely need to remind me in the morning."_

"_Oh don't worry. I will."_

"_Why does that statement strike me as ominous?"_

_. ._

…

_. ._

Rae woke bleary eyed but with a silly smile plastered over her face. She looked out the window- or rather, large unpatched holes in the walls. It was still dark. _What woke me?_ She wondered, quickly, silently getting to her feet and sneaking through the hovel, careful to avoid this broken board or that one. She slipped through her family's bedroom door, and into the main room. Gamlen was sprawled in that sweat and ale-soaked chair of his, before the fire. Whomever it was, was not yet inside. She went back and grabbed her staff, calling forth an illumination globe. As soon as the dim light came forth in the room, she noticed Tarian's absence, and the fact that the door was closed awkwardly. She had to admire the creature's consideration to detail. Li'rae crept toward the door, and opened it carefully. Once she did she could hear the low growl of her Mabari, and the frantic stammering of a very well rounded voice. "Now I wouldn't do that if- where is your mistress? By the Maker, I know you understand me, Mabari! I am a Templar!"

Li'rae sighed looking down at herself. Undergarments. She'd worn her nighty for the first time in months, and what did she get for her trouble? A templar. Tarian could handle the brute for a moment while she slipped into something a mite more modest. "Templars. Bah." She mumbled as she reached the door. "Tarian, who is- oh." She stepped outside feigning ignorance and surprise. "Tarian, calm yourself, this is a Templar knight!" The mabari looked at her sideways and huffed. She'd known exactly what the man was, and that was the reason for her snarling. "We have nothing to fear."

The Mabari barked, showing her teeth to the Knight, before backing up and sitting at her mistress' side. "May I help you, Ser Knight?" She touched her hair lightly, faking a blush. "I hope nothing is… wrong."

"No, of course nothing's wrong, Serrah. It's just… I'm afraid I'm a bit lost. I was tracking a young man, someone I believe very dangerous…" He looked pointedly at Hawke, "but I'm afraid I'm not accustomed to this area of the city and I'm a bit lost." His accent was unmistakably Fereldan, and slightly familiar.

"Oh!" She said, "I've been living here for quite some time. I may be able to point you in the right direction."

"I would be… Are you a Fereldan?"

Hawke laughed nervously, "Yes. Been here since just after the incident with the king… my brother survived the battle."

The templar chuckled, "I believe we are acquainted, messer."

Momentary panic flooded her veins, and she wished she hadn't left her staff inside the door. Tarian picked up on her feelings and began to growl again. "I- we are?"

The Templar removed his helmet, and brushed back well groomed blond hair. "Yes."

Li'rae stepped back in surprise, almost tripping over Tarian- who did not appreciate the moment at all- "Dean."

"I'm glad I'm not forgotten." He said quietly, almost urgently. "How are you? Your family?"

"I- we're alright. Well enough. But you! I thought you'd been lost… in Lothering."

"It will take more than a few Darkspawn to fell the children of the Maker."

Li'rae smiled, sincerely glad that out of all that was destroyed, this one good man was not. "It is good to see you."

He chuckled, "And you. But why are you here? In Kirkwall! It… isn't safe."

"I-my mother. She has some family here. We thought that family was much wealthier than they are. I'm working on that." She brushed back her hair nervously. "There's an expedition."

"Ohh? You always were resourceful. Oh… your father. Did he make it?"

"He died two days before we left."

"My sympathy. I hope someone commended his soul to the Maker?"

"Brother Alek."

"A good man." Dean said, "He now serves in the chantry in hightown."

"Does he? I haven't had much occasion to go. The walk is so hard for Mother."

"Of course. Perhaps… you would accompany me to a service? A small one?"

Li'rae's face heated up, her thoughts going back to Fenris. "I am… seeing someone."

"I wasn't implying-"

"Of course not." She coughed. "This is a bit awkward. I'm sorry. Yes, I'll go to a service with you. Today I have a task to perform for a local Magistrate, however. I'll be out on the Wounded Coast."

"Dangerous area, that." Dean said, "Promise you'll take care of yourself."

"Always." She grinned, "Of course, I will."

"Ah… and I do still need directions." He smiled shyly. "Imagine running into a friendly face just as I need it most." He laughed, "The Maker does fulfill our needs, and then some, doesn't he?"

"He does at that." Li'rae said. "Where would you like to go?"

"The Gallows? The apostate was long gone before I stumbled upon your step. I'm lucky no brigands set upon me."

"Ah Luck. Funny how that's just another word for a woman who doesn't tolerate thieves at her door." She grinned at him.

"My lovely lady Luck." He took her hand and kissed its back. "May you always shine for me when I need your light."

Li'rae blushed in earnest now. The templar was very… charming. "Ah, your way back to the docks." She pointed him toward around the corner, then down the stairs toward the Bazaar. Then the first staircase you see on your left will lead you down to the docks. After that-"

"I believe I know my way from there, Lady Luck."

"Of course."

"Thank you." He kissed her hand once more, then stepped back and put his helmet back on. "And farewell."

…

. .

…

Li'rae was on Fenris' doorstep before the morning had fully dawned. She noticed that the door was open, so she let herself in. "Li'rae!" Fenris called, "I saw you coming."

That explained the open door.

"Oh did you? I really need to work on my stealth."

"No need to worry. If you were a rogue there might be cause for concern."

"Silly elf thinks he's a comedian." She muttered trotting up the stairs.

"What was that?"

"Oh…" She said as she entered the room to find him oiling the breastplate of his spiky black armor. Which meant he had yet to put a shirt on. Which meant that she was staring.

He looked up at her curious as to why she'd stopped, then seemed to remember himself. "I apologize." He said. "I know I must look…" He made a face, "grotesque."

"No." She said softly, "No, you look…"

"It's alright." Fenris placed the cloth he had been using down, and went to grab a tunic. "I am accustomed to my appearance."

"No, Fenris. You really…" She crossed the cluttered room, and stopped him from reaching for his shirt, "Are not grotesque. I promise. That isn't why…"

He waited a moment before deeming her incapable of finishing speaking. "You seem to be having trouble getting a full sentence out. I assume it is because you are distracted."

"Well…" She eyed his chest, scarred though it was by lyrium and the work of the magisters. "Fenris… I like the way you look. I was-" She took a breath, "You're an extremely handsome elf. Head to toe." She smirked playfully.

"I… Thank you." He coughed, looking away from her, absurdly pleased with her reaction.

She nodded slowly, then seemed to jolt, before she came back to herself. "So, you ready for today?"

"Of course. You woke early, this morning."

"Yeah." She flushed, "Tarian went outside to guard Gamlen's house against a passing Templar…"

Alarmed, he straightened a bit, surprised that he was so put-off by the idea of any mage hunter capturing 'his mages'. "A Templar? I hope everything is alright."

"Yeah…" She hesitated, "It's just… I knew this Templar."

"Knew him? From where?"

"Well, we sort of… grew up together. In Lothering."

"You grew up with a Templar."

"Well he wasn't always a- never mind. Yes. Thing is… He knows about me."

"And now he knows where you live." Fenris growled. "Perhaps you should take more care to expose less." He snapped.

Li'rae pursed her lips, "I didn't know it was him at the time. He recognized me."

"Foolish." He muttered. "Very foolish."

"It's alright. Dean won't sell me out, and he doesn't know about Beth."

"That does not sound 'alright'. He could change his mind at any time."

"I disagree." Li'rae said stubbornly. "Dean is a good man."

"If you think that you r secret will come before his pay, you are wrong. I advise you to stay away from him."

Li'rae huffed, "I'm going to the chantry for a service. Already promised."

"Break that promise if you value your continued freedom." He said. "Any more contact than necessary will only end poorly for your family. Do not go."

"Maker's breath, Fenris. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous." She brushed back some of the hair that'd fallen into her face. "I'm not interested in one of those creepy Templar-mage love stories. That's not what this is about."

"Of course not, it's about a mage hater and a mage. Henris and Fawke." He snapped. "Your Dwarf…" He shook his head in disgust, or something that highly resembled it. Perhaps extreme embarrassment.

"By the Maker has everyone in Kirkwall heard that?" She groaned, "I told him to stop production!"

"Because you are embarrassed by the thought of someone believing you would bed an escaped slave and an elf."

"Maker's breath, man! Wh- I-that is not true. My mother is embarrassed-"

"Even better."

"Ugh! Fenris!"

"That is my name."

"Mother is embarrassed because she has a noble woman's sensibilities about…intimacy." She said exasperated, "And I told him to stop because my uncle found a copy somewhere and decided to read selections at the damned dinner table."

"I see." He said doubtfully.

"Believe me, I have no qualms about the implication that Fawke wants Henris. I don't blame her in the least. I have similar feelings." That sounded better in her head. "Fenris. I didn't tell Varric to write that. I told him to stop for my mother's sake." She sighed, "Would you like to come to dinner to hear selections from 'Siege Harder', as read by Gamlen Amell?"

"Dinner… with your family?"

She blushed, "Well… yes. We could catch him at the Blooming Rose, probably, but I'd prefer not to eat anything they're serving."

He seemed to be considering the idea for a moment, before he said aloud, "Is that something you would want, or were you being facetious."

"Well, I was being facetious, about the reading… but that doesn't mean I wouldn't like that." She said quickly. "I'll even make cookies."

He snorted, "Are you certain you'd want me…" He hesitated thinking of adding 'and not your Templar', but decided against it. He believed in her sincerity. What reason had she to lie? 'The templar?' He wondered. Then he thought how he was behaving. She was a mage. He was a slave. Fenris began to sulk.

"Of course I am!" She sighed, "Maker's breath man, do you doubt me that much?" She sat down heavily at his table, her back to the fire. "If it means so much to you, I'll tell Dean I would rather not go."

"Do as you will." He grumbled.

She threw up her hands. "Fenris help me out here. What are you angry about?"

He remained silent. "If I've done something to offend you, let's get it out in the open. I need to know we're alright. If either of us is distracted, going into a fight-"

"I would not allow something so trivial to affect me."

Li'rae took a deep breath, and placed her hands on the table. "You're sulking."

He remained as he was.

"I don't know what you're upset about. If it's still the magic- I thought you'd forgiven me for that. I told you in the fade that I'm sorry, but-"

"That's a bit like hearing about it second hand, Li'rae. I have few memories from the fade."

"Well then, I am sorry. Truly."

"You sound less apologetic than angry."

"Perhaps it's because I feel like I know two different men who claim the same name, past and persona. Maybe because I must have every conversation twice, and half the time, nothing I say matters, unless it be negative." She snapped. "Maybe because what feels more real to me is less than a dream for you."

He scowled, "Mages."

"Oh, I forgot. You hate my kind as well. I would have to fancy a man who could never love me." She growled. "Know what? I think I can handle the man hunt without you." She stood up and started to walk away, her hands clenching and unclenching as she steamed, furious. "I'll have Carver along instead."

"As you wish." The words came late, but weighed heavily. He considered going after her as she stormed away, but the slave in him was stronger than the man. 'How could she care for you? The Templar would be better suited, it is clear she cared for him.' A thousand seemingly sound reasons he should let her go cloying in his ear, held him still as he heard the door to 'his mansion' slam shut. Then, after she was gone, the chains burst and the heavy calm shattered.

The lyrium in his skin flared and his hands shook. He lowered his face into his hands and growled. When growling was not enough, he stood and smacked a cup from the table, watching in satisfaction as it shattered against the wall. "Better alone than in the power of a mage." He told himself. His skin burned, a constant reminder of what he was, and what she might do to him if he let her- and oh… he would. A part of him, the slave, lusted after her commands, her direction. If she wished it, he would grovel at her feet, however… he would hate her. The slave in him hated her already. It drew parallels between Li'rae and Hadrianna. Li'rae and Danarius. There were many qualities they shared, it said.

In the face of an enemy, she was ruthless. Her spells shattered bone and boiled blood. She demanded so much from him. Asked him to be someone he didn't recall. She expected him to guard her back even when she exposed it to her enemy. She used him to frighten her adversaries! By the time he was done recounting the ways they were alike, he was seething, seeing more of Hadrianna in her than Li'rae. He hated her. Then for one intense moment, he remembered. His body was lit up like a crystal in sunlight, and the lyrium burned him, but it allowed him a glimpse- just this once- into his half-remembered dream-life. He remembered the beach. The soft material she'd worn as a swim suit. The touches. The careful way she had treated him, always allowing enough room for him to retreat if he so chose. He remembered the thunderstorm metaphor, and he thought, with the tide of soon to be faded moments nearly drowning him, that this must be something like the way she felt every day. Only, rather than being a well cultivated piece of land, he was a canyon flooded to the brim.

He remembered kissing and cuddling. He remembered the soft texture of her skin- and ached to feel it in his waking hours- and the fondness he felt. Then he realized something he should have known, yet somehow managed to lose. He had run for her. To her. Not at her behest, or because she had commanded him, but because he wanted to be near her. This was not the decision of a slave, but that of a man. Miles and miles, he had come, without knowing why. But she had known. She'd known him from the moment she saw him, and he had never questioned clearly, the reason why. She had known that he would come. Come for her. And he had just allowed the slave in him to chase her away.

As his skin cooled, he found himself on his knees. "I am a fool." He said aloud, gradually coming to his feet. He realized his knees ached as he stood and they creaked. The fire had burned down to embers. How long had he existed in-between realms? Moments, hours? Fenris looked out toward the door, wishing she would be there. Wishing he hadn't let her go angry. "A damned fool." He put his armor on, his sword into its place on his back, and then he rushed toward the doors to follow, only stopping at the exit, upon realizing, "I… cannot follow because I do not know where she went." The Wounded Coast was large, and scarred. As he stood there, hand upon the door, the memories faded, like water through clasped fingers. He knew them better than before, but they were once again mere impressions of events. "I cannot even hold onto these memories." Bitterness welled once more, but not directed at Li'rae. At Danarius. The magister who stole his life, burned his memories along with his skin, and cursed his soul.


End file.
